The Bear: Redux
by Mrwendel
Summary: Taking place mainly before the games and during the novels/The Last wish and Sword of Destiny. Involving Ulfrik Of Faroe a quiet, one-eyed bear who walks the known world, loves, rarely laughs, and above all, follows the Path.
1. The man from Skellige

There was a man walking alone on the road from Vengerberg to Gulet, he had been walking a good few hours when he stopped to releave himself on a nearby tree, letting out a sigh as he habitually fumbled with the straps to his swords. Two swords, one was typical steel while the other silver which as those who have read any beastiary would know that silver is most effective against monsters and a silver sword is normally carried by a _witcher_ , a professional monster slayer. The tall, broad-shouldered witcher could faintly make out the sound of a cart wheeling by as a horses hooves thumped in the dirt. He turned around after fastening his belt and made his way back onto the road, he saw a lone woman with a young girl and what looked like a young man who he assumed was also hers as they rolled near the stranger he waved his hand in the air.

"Good morning!" He called out, doing his best to seem non-threatening, which is hard to do with a cats eye and two swords.

"Morning sir, how are you?" The woman asked, she bore a Keadweni accent as the witcher eyed her children while they stared at his one cats eye as the other was covered by a black patch that was tied around his head with lether cords that bound it resting on the nape of his neck.

"May I ask where you are headed?" His posture may have seemed lax and unthreatening, however a witcher will often lean on one of the their hips(opposite of whichever side their swords lay on their back) ready to pounce at any moment.

"Gulet...For the fair." She responded, eyeing his swords.

"Ah-well then, fair lady... " Ulfrik did his best to seem charming however he knew he was fumbling over himself, "may I beseech you a ride to Gulet?" He bore a polite smile that caused her to blush as he stood a good a foot from her wagon looking up at the trio looking down at him, the boy was in the front with his mother as the younger girl in the back her hands clutching the side of the wagon as she peered down at the stranger. He wore a leather vest that was studded and thick with four buckles running diagonally across his torso-the top one was left undone, under the vest was a simple gray robe with a large hood reaching to the middle of his back, as the robe itself sit just below his waist and covered the middling of his palms much like a monk although clearly not as he also had plates strapped to his arms, with the one on his left shoulder baring spikes, his forarms bare except for the gray sleaves covering them.

"Perphaps...do you have a name stranger?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ulfrik, a witcher of the isles." He replied.

"There be monsters?"

"None that I can see, but I hope to find work in or around the mines. I can also offer protection on the road."

"No coin then? Hm." After a bit of a staredown the woman did nod her head, "Hop in the back with Gisli, Ulfrik. Never know with those squirrels about. I presume those swords aren't just for show?"

"They are not."

Ulfrik hopped in the back of the wagon, he unstrapped his swords and set them down in the hay as he then lay down next to Gisli who was sitting on a small keg. She had little dark locks that tossed about in the wind. She resmbled her mother as did her brother, their mother oddly alone Ulfrik presumed the father was dead or in Gulet himself. He thought of the womans words "Squirrels about." a reference to the scoia'tael who primarily operate in Keadwen if Ulfriks memory served him right-although he's heard rumors they've reached Temaria and the Pontar valley although he's heard even less about them being in the south but Aedirn that boarders Keadwen and Temaria might have something to worry about.

"Yes?" Ulfrik hahad noticed the girl-Gisli- had not taken her eyes off of him.

"You're a witcher, I heard that means you eat cats and fight monsters."

"Well-"

"What's the biggest monster you've ever fought?" Asked the boy.

"Eron, one question at a time...How does one properly skin a cat master witcher?" Ulfrik caught a smirk as she looked back to him, he sat up and scratched at his face as his beard was once again growing.

"Well, I've only eaten one cat-out of spite not hunger."

The woman let out a giggle as did Eron Gisli however did not understand. "What's spite?"

"I was angry with it, scratched at my ankles and bit me when I sleept. So one morning I set it on fire."

"With magic?"

"With magic."

The children's eyes widened as Ulfrik confirmed his use of the arcane arts, very few have ever met a witcher that is unless they knew where to find a monster in that case witchers are normally good about finding work through word of mouth.

"And your biggest monster?" Gisli reminded him,

Ulfrik let out a sigh as he stroked his chin thoughtfully thinking of the largest most dangerous undertaking he had ever accepted...or one's that had been brought upon him, his eye was an obvious tale and the slightly malformed flesh under the right side of his neck that unbeknownst to most covered his entire shoulder as well as his back and chest which was from the acid of a griffin that burned through his armor.

"I'd say the most dangerous was a griffin in Verden, yet the biggest is surely the orge of An Skellig, she was a beast-"

"She?" Eron cocked his head. "I thought monsters were magic and didn't need to breed."

"They are magic, but so are sorcerers and they are born of the womb. As was I." He reminded them, it is hard to think of people much less monsters for having parents. Although monsters do not "parent" they mearly sire their children.

"Interesting, how big was this ogre?" Their mother asked.

"Have you seen the door to king Demavends' castle?"

"Of course, we're from Vengerberg after all." She added. "I'm Jonna by the way."

"Hello Jonna...The orge was twice that size and equal in gerth." He said causing Jonna to turn completely around as the horse that pulled them along purred and snorted as it tugged on the reigns.

"That's impossible, nothing is that big."

"That's what I said when I found her, chewing on a cow."

"A whole cow?" Gislis eyes widened.

"Of course a whole cow Gisli, a monster of that size prefers cow to human...although it will settle."

He saw her swallow as well, glancing to Eron who piped up. "Which sword did you use to kill it?" He stared at the two laying in the back of the wagon next to Ulfrik who picked up his silver sword within its scabbard and drew it for him, the hilt was a about twelve inches long, in excellent condition with it's artfully crafted leather grip and sporting a angled cross gard that pointed up (typical for silver swords) . The pomel was a silver dragon with tiny horns facing upward giving it the appearance of a serpent, as simple as the decoration was it did have a certain...presence. The blade itself, flawless, and beautiful when sporting it's black swirls embedded via the specail method in whitch it was crafted not to mention it is razor sharp, like a witchers sword ahould be, as Ulfrik spends a considerable amount of time caring for them after battle.

"It smells of hemlock..." Eron said as Ulfrik showed him the blade, he did not let him hold however. Ulfrik let him touch the blunt side of the sword and then back in the scabbard it went with a quiet shick.

"That is because I've coated it with blade oil so many times that the smell has taken."

Kneeling down in front of him Gisli peered at under his vest where his medalion sat around his neck.

"You said you're from the isles?" Jonna asked.

"The smallest one, Faroe." He held up his forefinger and thumb to Gisli to emphasize the size of the isle.

"You're very agreeable for a witcher." Jonna added, "From what I've heard you lot hate...everything."

"Our reputation often does proceed us." It almost sounded like a warning, however his nature was more or less a rouse. In the sense that he was being more cordial than usual as a kindness to those who've shown him kindness. A normal and polite thing to do, that and he was in a relitively good mood for it seems the stars had aligned for him that day. They rain had gone and it wasn't even muggy, he had caught a deer early on in the week and had been enjoying venison vittles ever since and then of course there's the kind Jonna of Vengerberg who let him ride in her wagon.

"If you don't mind I'd like to catch some sleep, I've been walking for a few days now." Ulfrik said situating himself in the hay as Gisli went back to sitting on the small keg.

It was the late hours of the day when Ulfrik opened his eye to find Gisli poking at his shoulder. She was whispering his name until she saw his shiny yellow eye blink open. She was shaking as she looked over the side of the wagon Jonna was standing up in her seat as Eron remaind quiet, sitting up the witcher paid attention to the conversation.

"We simply want to reach Gulet." Jonna said.

"Of course, I will not deny you passage. Me and my friends here only ask for compensation for keeping the roads safe."

"Where is Demavends seal? None of you are knights or soldiers."

Ulfrik heard a man make his way around the wagon as they spoke, Ulfrik sat up and came face to face with the man as he stood in front of the back. He was a bit fat and not at all threatening to Ulfrik however to a young woman (Young to Ulfrik at least) and her two children a few men with swords can do a lot of harm.

"Oi! There's a man back here- a cripple." He was staring Ulfrik down, refering to his blindside on his right eye Ulfrik looked down at his side and picked up his steel sword by the scabbard and held it firmly, scooting out of the back. When Ulfrik stood up he was a head taller than the man in front of him, he took a step back placing a hand on his sword.

"A tall cripple...with a cats eye...and a fancy bit'o jewelry." He reached for the bear around Ulfriks neck.

The witcher swatted his attackers hand away as he threw a striking jab with the pomel of his steel into the mans gut followed by strike to his brow that knocked him to the ground, the pommel on his steel was a common Skellige design, it was curved like the moon with a short nine inch hilt. He turned to see the others approaching from the front of the cart. He counted four...five, two had bows drawn on him and the other three, swords drawn, one man had a red cape holding a slightly better made sword in his hand as he appraoched Ulfrik.

"What's your buisness?" Ulfrik asked, when after some time he recived no answer he nodded his head.

"So be it." He heard a bow string release, dodging the arrow, Ulfrik had moved so fast the bandits could barely track his movements in the waning daylight. He shoved the still sheathed sword towards the leader who waisted no time closing the gap between he and Ulfrik, somewhat to the witchers surprise his enemy's attack was almost effective but instead used his enemy's momentum and whirled around whacking red cape with his left elbow as his sheathed sword deflected the other. He felt an arrow pass against his leather armor as it hit a stud with a metalic 'tick' before the other could even leave it's string Ulfrik wrapped his left arm around the neck of the leader and used him as a sheild.

Dropping the body he began to unsheath his sword tossing the scabbard to the ground he overpowered the first attacker forcing his sword into the dirt as Ulfrik grabbed him by the collar and forced his sword into his gut. Using ard to knock the archers down he lifted a knife from his boot and used it to deflect the strike from the last swordsman who bore a look of shock as a sword was plunged into his chest, the dagger was then thrown into the neck of an archer as the other one began to nock an arrow.

Jonna had never seen a man move so fast in her life nor had she ever seen a head fall from another mans shoulders. She was clutching Gisli and Eron in the back of her wagon when Ulfrik approached wiping his sword he turned to the man writhing on the ground.

"Get up." He grunted.

The fat man moaned and groaned as he stood up to face the witcher. "Preferably soon...for your sake."

"What now? You going to kill me too?"

"Just...don't let me hear of you again...or I'll find ya."

"Yes ser." He ran off in the direction of Vengerberg back down the road, he turned to Jonna, standing in front of the family in silence the witchers piercing golden eye shining in the darkness as he waited for a response.

"I'm-"

"Drive." Jonna spoke in a hushed tone. Ulfrik understood, he was almost surprised but he did as she asked and drove the rest of the way to Gulet.

They didn't speak until the reached the city boarder when the sun had began to rise. Ulfrik stopped them just short of the gates and stepped out, as did Jonna. She had his silver in her hands, holding it out for him as he stood in front of her strapping his steel to his back, he gently took the other sword from her.

"Thank you, I imagine those bastards thought we were easy prey."

"You were, why were you traveling alone?" Direct but the question had to be asked.

"We're actually here to see my father, my husband died a week ago, left us pennyless with debt."

Ulfrik nodded in an understanding way, he didn't say anything though. His eye watch the woman in front of him, occasionally it darted back to the childern, the thing about having a single cats eye is everyone looks at it and notices where it drifts and Jonna could tell Ulfrik wanted to get a move on. She raised an eyebrow and took a careful step towards him, placing her hand on his chest to balance herself and standing on her tip-toes Jonna placed a kiss on his cheek.

"If you are ever in Gulet again, you should find me, my father owns land on the other side of the city-we'll give you a roof."

"I may just do that, until then..." She had sweetness to her that seemed melt his iron will. But then again he must wonder, for he walks in the shadow of death knowing that any job could be his last.

'Tis the reality of a witcher.

"Gisli, Eron." He grunted placing a hand in Gislis dark locks as he passed them and walked into the city.

"Until then." Jonna stood in place and watched him walk away for a moment. Before she turned to her childern and headed back to the cart.

Yep, a reboot. Like the description said this is a refocusing and retelling of Ulfriks story. Now that I've read the book series (not finished with 'blood of Elves' yet) I'd like to incorporate both the game timeline and the books.


	2. A night in Oxenfurt

Rain was pounding on the dirt streets, puddling up and making tiny lakes as people hurried along for cover, there were a few horses whose hooves quickened as they pulled carts of goods or simply carried someone along, Ulfrik watched as a man's cart got stuck in the mud from the comfort of a tavern window as the panging on the window pane began to harden and the mans swearing ever more faint. He drank his ale, cold and frothy as it should be, one of the benifits of shacking up in a big city like Oxenfurt for a few nights. Due to the city's close ties with the academy many patrons of the arts come through and unbeknownst to Ulfrik the fine art of craft brews was well respected and gaining traction as a crisp handmade lager was cheaper than than a Bouclaire wine and more available to the common folk, so they bought their fancy ales. He raised his pint in the air after finishing and the barmaid came by picking up his mug.

"Another sir?"

"Please."

"Would you like to open up a tab."

"It'll be my last." Ulfrik replied after thinking it over, sure of himself.

"It's your third one." She replied dryly.

The one-eyed witcher raised a brow as he looked up at her. She then eyed him coyly as she took his plate and rolled her eyes. "We'll see if it's you _last one,_ sir."

"Thank you." He smiled, fitting his hands together as he waited patiently, with a bit of a chill in the air Ulfrik had put up his hood to cover his ears but not his face as he actually starting to feel quite warm from the drink. Glancing outside again he caught sight of a chesnut horse with a stranger covered in a green cloak riding it, he noticed that the stranger stopped to look at his horse outside. Which had the head of a Kikimore queen strapped to it, he chuckled thinking about a man who earlier walked by in disgust, coming inside demanding the owner cover it up, Ulfrik threw his mug at him and told him to do it himself, adding an extra gratuity for good measure. Obviously nothing was done about the hideous trophy as Ulfrik watched the stranger hitch their horse to the tavern and walked in, no sooner Ulfriks beer had a arrived. He gave the barmaid a few crowns and she was on her way to the other customers.

The stranger turned out to be a woman, average height, above average build, for a moment he imagined the stranger was someone else...someone he'd forgotten afted the third drink. She walked in and scanned the room, Ulfrik couldn't quite place those green eyes of hers yet in all other aspects she looked very familiar, he was shocked that he actually recognized such a lovely stranger, and she him as her eyes fell onto his single cats eye as it tried to put a name to face.

"Ulfrik?" She said, finally.

"Triss, Triss Merigold?" He had cocked his head to the side gazing at her eyes which he could've sworn were blue, quite blue actually he recalled them being specifically and intrensically blue. None the less she responded to the name, standing to embrace his old friend he felt his hood slip off. She was small in his arms and wet from the rain, as they parted he motioned for the chair across from his, before sitting down she removed her cloak and set it beside her.

"I can't believe it," Ulfrik said as Triss situated herself in her seat, rubbing her hands together for warmth as Ulfrik watch her. "I mean..." He took a big gulp from his mug, "I'd ask what you've been up to but I already know."

"Oh?" Folding her arms as she sat back in her chair.

"I heard you and your Rivian friend were caught in some nasty buisness in Keadwen, war, dead kings, scoia'tael, the lodge...all very interesting for a humble witcher like myself-say...where is the ol'wolf?"

Her eyes moved back and forth, he caught a faint look of regret in her expression, He had remembered her smile more than anything else and how much it hurt him when he saw her frown.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No it's just...well...me and Geralt aren't-"

"I see, Sorry to hear, I know how much you care for one another."

He felt a little guilty now, he knew that it was Triss who truly cared for Geralt yet it seemed that fate had another choice as he had regained his memory and obsession for Yennefer or rather his _fascination._ Geralt loved Triss, just not as much as Triss loved Geralt, how much she had fantasized about him, built it all up in her head and now she was alone again. Ulfrik had to change the subject, fortunately there was something he really wanted to know.

"Green always was your color." Triss knew he was referring to her eyes, as the skelliger took another drink from his mug.

"A side effect, yes. But I can't argue with the results." She tugged at her collar exposing her chest just below her neckline, showing him that the scar that once plagued her from the battle of Sodden hill was now gone. It had been gone for some time from what he had heard, although he hadn't seen Triss in a long time.

"Lovely." Ulfrik smirked. "Would you like a drink?"

"Took you long enough to offer, your manners have faded with age." She nicked his pint out from under his nose and began to chug it herself, rolling his eye as she made fun if his few but noticable gray hairs in his long braided mane, Ulfrik waited as she set down the mug and let out a small burp.

"And you're still a little shit." Triss let out a laugh as he reached for his pint only to have her sit back in her chair with it.

Letting out a low growl that turned into a sigh Ulfrik then asked, "so what brings to to Oxenfurt? Aside from stealing a man's drink?"

"A bed, I've been traveling from former Temaria almost non-stop. You could imagine my relief when I saw the lights from the city after spending a night in Velen."

"My condolences." Ulfrk grunted as the barmaid returned with another ale for Ulfrik, he set down a few more crowns and thanked her before she walked away, looking smug.

"They're much appreciated," Rolling her eyes the sorceress took another swig from Ulfriks drink. "And had I known you were in the area I would have come sooner."

"Too kind you are, but I was probably on the job."

"I saw. Is that a Kikimore?"

He exaggerated his impression yet he was none the less, impressed that she knew what the monster was. Most would simply call it a big bug and leave it at that. "Very good recognition. You have been spending to much time with my kind." He chuckled.

"I almost agree..." She peered into her pint mug as though there may be an answer to a question she had kicking around in her head, the question of course involved a man she loved yet as fate would have it he remained ever just out of reach. "I'm due for Novigrad," she perked up a bit. "I plan to set up shop there for a while."

"Really?'

She nodded in response her eyes remained on him as he took a swig of his fanciful beer and held it in the air a moment before drinking. "And if I told you that I was also bound for the free city?" Raising a brow as he leaned against the table.

"I'd say we should ride together." She acknowledged his toast and after knocking cups they downed their dinks. The barmaid stopped by their table once again she set a hand on the wooden surface looking from Triss to Ulfrik where she rested her eyes.

"Shall I open a tab?"


	3. Scars

A bleak day but day none the less as snow clouds covered the sky and gently sprinkled the white dust upon the ground, winter had come to Skellige and in the cold air on the central isle of Ard Skellig in a village that sat nestled in a mountain valley-that also held a good sized lake, where two men could be seen swinging swords at each other as they sparred. While one much younger than the other however the younger one held up well against the older, and clearly more experienced man as he seemed to be exerting himself less. And below their necks was the medallion of the Bear swaying as they performed pirouettes and turns unnatural to man but quite normal for a witcher. They knew, and noticed that some would come and watch, some even joined in only to quickly leave after being defeated. They clashed again and again, parrying each other constantly looking for an opening or a angle that could give one or the other an edge.

But it wasn't long before the young witcher found himself eating the earth as Ulfrik swept his feet out from under him. The young witcher saw the blade of a sword hit the dirt right next to his eye as Ulfrik bent down, sitting on his heels as he watched a pair of young girls walk by.

"What were you looking at."

"No-hing." His face still in the dirt, hiding the shame of defeat.

"Does this No-hing have tits... _Arvid_?"

"Ptt! Maybe, or maybe my footing could use some work." He rubbed the back of his neck as he sat up on his backside.

"Arvid!" Ulfrik turned to see a young blonde girl waving him over then returned his singular gaze to Arvid as he helpped him up out of the sandy dirt.

"That is the village elders daughter."

"Maybe one pair, yes." He could see the look Ulfrik was giving him, the older man didn't exactly approve. "I'm being good, I promise."

"I believe you, just be warned that's all, you're a foreigner and always will be."

Arvid knew what he meant, he was young but not so naive as to think he would ever settle down...have a family as such things are simply not possible for a witcher. If he was lucky he'd have a quick death. Ulfrik had taken him under his wing years ago when their sanctuary of Dol Aerith was lost to an avalanche, for a while it was Ulfrik and a ten year old witcher on the road together. But now Arvid was a man, still young but a man and last summer will have been his last with Ulfrik as after this winter Arvid was now a medallion carrying monster slayer and after this winter passes the two will part ways as witchers often do.

Ulfrik sighed as he lifted his sword from the ground. "Go to her then...do your no-hings. But remember to be at the inn before nightfall, you might get lost at night." He smiled walking back to where his armor was laying. As he swung his sword a few times before sheathing it. Ulfrik swung his chain mail cloak over head and let it slide onto his arms before attaching his chest plate made of hardened leather, his shoulders guarded by metal paldrins and his gauntlets were steal as well. The witcher made his way back to town, walking the road back to the village as he passed a few others with a nod of his head, his horse was tied to a post not far.

Back at the New Port inn located in Kaer Trolde port Ulfrik set his horse near a hay bale and after tossing a quilted blanket over the animal Ulfrik headed inside where it was warm. The place was nice and ran by man named Kīamar who let Ulfrik and Arvid stay in the largest room which Ulfrik considered kind since many dislike his trade. Then again they paid well, after a prosperous summer with over fifty jobs which had set them up for at least the entire winter. Ulfrik found himself a quiet seat and retrieved his pipe from a pocket on his belt and tobacco in another packing it in as his mentor had taught him, first with the strength of a baby, then that of a woman, then of a man and if you wanted to sit there for a whole day then top it off with the strength of a witcher. He used igni to light it, taking a few puffs he sat back in his chair as Kīamar walked by, standing in front of Ulfrik who stared back with his single eye.

"Yes Kīamar?"

"Someone was looking for you, said you should meet them by the docks when you got back."

"Hm." The witcher grunted.

"Ahem, it was a girl, pretty too, stole the eye of every man here-ah no offense."

Ulfrik quietly removed his pipe from his lips the witcher shook his head with a slight smirk. "None taken, what was she wearing?"

"Oh she wont be hard to spot, bright red hair and a green dress under the all that fur she was wearing almost mistook her for a skelliger until she opened her mouth."

"Thanks Kīamar." Ulfrik stood up placing his pipe in his mouth as he situated his weapons on his back making sure everything was comfortable. "If Arvid returns before me tell him I'm on a job."

He walked out, back into the cold he tugged at his collar and the fur around it so the wind wouldn't hit his face so hard as it whipped through the air, he could hear some of the An Craite flags furling in the wind as he made his way to the docks in seach of the red haired woman with a green dress. The snow fall had paused for the moment but Ulfrik had a feeling it would soon return as it always had. When he reached the docks he glanced around seeing nothing, and nothing, again nothing but boats and people passing by until he spotted a tall slender figure not at all hearty like a skelliger woman, she had continent written all over her, who wore that much fur this tome of year anyway? It was still fall...technically. He approached her as she spoke with who Ulfrik presumed was a ship captain.

"Will the weather affect our time?" She asked.

"Course not, this here ship is buit for Skellige, besides Spikeroog is barely an hour away. Not to worry lass, you act like you've never been in a longboat before."

"Funny..." She sighed before turning back around she looked over the small crowd of people surrounding the port and easily picked out the man with two sword on his back.

"Witcher!" She waved, walking towards him Ulfrik, with his pipe in his mouth Ulfrik stopped in front of her, she didn't look familiar at all. Although he wished she did, a lovely main of well kept red hair was tied behind her head as it tossed about in the wind. Her eyes as blue as the oceans of the south, her face lightly freckled as well. Ulfrik being polite blew smoke from the corner of his mouth in the direction of the wind so it wouldn't touch her face as he looked down on her.

"Ulfrik of Faroe." He grunted, "Heard a red haired woman from the continent was asking for me."

"You heard right Ulfrik, I'm known as Triss Merigold a sorceresses from Maribor."

"Long way from home aren't you Triss?" He said now annoyed that the wind blew out his pipe, before he could sign igni once again yet Triss carefully placed her thumb into his pipe and smoke began to bellow out as she lifted her thumb the wind blew yet did not blow out the flame this time. And when he took a drag a faint flavor of cinnamon now graced his lips.

"Thank you."

"Of course, now what brings me to the isles is I require a monster slayer to aide me in an...expidition."

"How much?"

"Don't you want to-"

Ulfrik raised an eyebrow and with only one eye he could still convey an expression that told her this was not his first time. "How much, miss Merigold?"

"Triss, is fine. And I believe this will fetch a fine price." She held up a small leather pouch to Ulfrik who let her set it in his palm for him to inspect as he opened it he saw it was filled with small saphires. The whole lot was probably worth almost six hundred crowns maybe a little more.

"Large reward usually means a large risk, enlighten me."

"In an elven ruin on Spikeroog, there lies an amulet that I want, it's important that I get it." She looked up at Ulfrik, waiting for a response as he thoughtfully smoked.

"Dangerous, bound to to be a magical trap or two, I'll need a few hours to make some dimeritium bombs."

Tirss wrapped her arms around her shoulders and walked passed Ulfrik. "Back to the New Port then? Out of this cold."

"It's not cold...it's brisk."

"Well for me it's _cold_ so I'll wait with you at the inn."

"In that case I should warn you, the dimeritium may cause you to feel a bit...funny."

"I'm aware, thank you."

Rolling his eye Ulfrik follwed her back to the New Port inn.

Triss was filing her nails as Ulfrik worked on the casing of his bombs, fortunately they only had a mild explosive element, so if anything his hands would burn for a few days. Dimeritum is only dangerous to magical beings as it disables magic and causes it to cease, it causes no pain just annoyance. Hearing the door open and then close Ulfrik looked to see Arvid standing in front of the door staring at Triss.

"Hello." He said after a moment, looking to Ulfrik with a question he need not ask aloud as the young man held his swords in his his hand.

"Arvid this is Triss, she's a sorceress, so behave."

"Of course, nice to meet you Triss." He smirked as he held out his hand to the sorceress, who took it kindly.

"You're young Arvid, very young." Triss commented as she shook his hand, he had a gentle grip and a certain almost welcoming personality to him that Triss found strange. Then again his gaze was also that of a normal man his age yet accompanied by long lashes similar to hers, but what caught her off gaurd the most was his sincere smile, that nearly made her blush.

"Perceptive." Flashing his cats eyes towards her in an attempt at flirting. Triss however only had eyes for one witcher and he was somewhere else entirely. Reminded of why she was on this little quest in the first place she ran her hand across her chest below her collar bone. Ulfrik tapped Arvid on the elbow from his seat facing a desk covered with bomb parts.

"What did I say? _Behave._ " Shaking his head as he went back to work Arvid grumbled as he helpped put together a bomb, he was a bit faster than Ulfrik however he was only packing half the Dimeritum in order to conserve it when Ulfrik found out he had him take his bombs apart and fill them propper and then he turned to Triss after he was satisfied with his work.

"Ready?"

Ulfrik had decided that Arvid should join them, two is better than one after all and with the money Triss had promised he might as well come prepaired. The longboat they were now in rocked back and forth, side to side, the sorceress seemed out of her element as she held onto the side. Both Ulfrik and Arvid watched with some amusement, while they'd been used to longboat ferrying their whole lives yet here was this prissy continental lady looking like she was ready to vomit off the side of the boat. Ulfrik admired her spirit, she could have teleported yet she traveled conventionally with him, quite strange for a lady sorceress to show such...humility. Arvid was sitting a bit closer to her, keeping her company and her mind off the incessant rocking and rolling of the waves. The older witcher even spotted her smiling genuinely at him, Arvid was always a good lad while a witcher child isn't too hard to raise at times a teenager had its challenges. He once lost seventeen year-old Arvid in Novigrad, found him at the kingfisher joing in on a drinking contest. He won of course but Ulfrik gave him a thrashing after searching for him all day.

Eventually Ulfriks curiosity got the better of him so he asked, "Why take the boat?"

"I didn't feel like waiting at the shore and I know how you witchers feel about teleporting-"

"I don't mind it."

"Me neither."

 _"Excuse me_?"

"Yeah, it makes my stomach feel a bit funny but overall I like the effectiveness." Ulfrik stared blankly in her direction as he sat next to Arvid and across from Triss who was cornered into the stern of the boat. Now glaring at him she let out a sigh.

"How many witchers do you know?" Arvid asked.

She smirked, " A few...school of the wolf."

"Geralt?" Even in the isles master Dandelions ballads about the the witcher Geralt and his lover Yennefer have reached his shores, not to mention Ulfrik was able to catch a veiwing not to long ago in Temaria, his ballad started an argument amongst the crowd about the last war with Nilfgaard that Ulfrik had no intention of taking part in. Grandstanding all of it, the idea that one must succumb to anothers ideas just to make them feel better made little sense, especially when neither of them seemed to know what they were talking about, yet Ulfrik had an idea that Triss knew a thing or two about Sodden Hill.

She blushed at the mention of him. "Ah you do know him...you've _know_ _n_ him?" Ulfrik pressed.

"But he loves Yennefer," Arvid spoke as if this was an obvious and simple matter but as the young man had yet to realize, love is a fickle bitch, she looses her luster and often leaves you with regret and anger and it picks on the most naive of us all. While their are some who may disagree, it was Ulfriks experience...as well as the lady sorceress'.

Triss' blushing face turned to that of frustration while she did not lash out Ulfrik knew the underlying feeling. "Then according to master Dandelion, they have a funny way of showing it. He said they haven't seen each other in three years almost four."

Her eyes perked up, glancing at Ulfrik who bore a knowing look on his face. To Triss he came off not so much as old and wise but clever, definitely clever. "Although..." Ulfrik leaned forward so the ships crew wouldn't hear them.

"I heard he'd been traveling with a young girl recently...curious isn't it?"

"Yes it is."

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

Triss looked to Arvid who was leaning on the starboard side of the ship below their feet holding his medallion in his hand turning it every which way. He seemed a bit confused at the question Ulfrik was asking, but Triss knew exactly what he was asking. And she couldn't tell him, it wasn't possible considering the heat that had befallen the girl with seemingly more and more interesting folks headed Cirillas way each day.

"I haven't seen a girl with him." She lied. "Must be a rumor."

Ulfrik nodded, He didn't press her after that but he knew she would not want to betray Geralts trust.

"What do you need an Elven amulet for?" Arvid asked.

"Well you two are just a fountain of questions aren't you? A couple of curious cats."

"Fair enough, but the importance of this item may help us down the road." Arvid added as Ulfrik looked out to see Spikeroog in the distance.

"I'll tell you when we get there, fair?"

"I hope so." Dryly Ulfrik turned to see her as his left and only eye glared at the sorceress with a hint of unease.

The ruin was a bit of a walk from the main town, as Ulfrik and Triss walked side by side with Arvid trailing close behind Ulfrik on his left. As they came to a fork they realized in their path was a bit of an obstacle. A large, hulking, club-wielding, one-eyed obstacle, Ulfrik stood with his arms folded, scratching at his beard he turned to Triss.

"Was this here when you first came to the cave?"

"Maybe..."

"You _maybe_ not have seen a cyclops?" Arvid glared at her from behind "that might also have a contract." Avrid added turning to Ulfrik who seemed to be waying the option.

"It's just laying in the road, do they normally do that?"

"Sometimes, they go where the food is." Grunted the older witcher.

"That explains the pigs."

"More like hogs, they could feed half the village we passed." Arvid bent down onto his knees as he inspected the monster from afar.

"Arvid-shh." Ulfrik glared at him, he knew better than to wake a sleeping cyclops unless of course he planned on killing it which Ulfrk was sure that with Arvid and Triss it wouldn't be too difficult. Although they were on her time and her money so, he left it up to the sorceress.

"It's your call, you've bought us for the job and we intend to finish and collect."

"You think it's harming people?" Triss sighed knowing that killing the beast was probably the right thing to do.

"Unfortunately if it has domestic animals laying about which it..." Ulfrik bent down and tilted his head slightly then stood up right once more. "Which _he_ does, then he's probably been raiding farms at night or convoys during the day, either way he's affecting the human populis in a negative way."

Triss upturned her lip to the side in a little snarl as she let out a sigh. "It wont take long will it?"

"I could sneak up on it, dig my sword into its corroded artery." Arvid suggested picking out some oil for his sword.

"And where might that be on a cyclops?"

"Same as a human-almost, a bit more to the left." He ran a cloth dabbed in the ogroid oil across his blade, coating it well until it had a faint stench of boiled han-fiber.

"Alright." Ulfrik shrugged, approving the answer. "We'll be right here if things go south, just know that it wont be instant death, it'll claw at you if it sees you so you'll want to move fast, might have to leave your sword." Ulfrik was confident in him but he bit his lower lip nervously, even though for his trial of the medallion Arvid slew a fully grown fork tail that was mistaken for a dragon (as they often are by the general population). Triss could see the anxiety on his face, it reminded her of Geralt in a way, whenever he would watch Ciri on the pendulum or work the windmill. Granted, Geralt hid it well but every now and then a flash of 'oh shit' hits his face much like the unease upon Ulfriks.

"I believe in him." Triss reassured.

"Of course he can do it, he's fought drowners blindfolded. He can slit a damn throat." Narrowing his eye at her Triss took it as appreciation knowing first hand at how fantastic witchers were at expressing themselves.

Arvid crept up quietly to the cyclops, Triss struggled to hear his foots steps yards away as the young witcher positioned himself to the side of the cyclops near it's chest as Arvid raised the tip of his silver over the monsters throat and plundged the blade into its skin, blood flooded from the wound as Arvid quickly removed his sword and did a back flip off his free hand landing on his feet of course, he and the others watched as the cyclops stuggled to breath, clawing at the air it gasped and heaved until finally, in a dark red pool of its own blood it went limp. Sheathing his sword Arvid then retrieved a knife that was strapped to his chest and began to cut out its eye.

"Now I'll be the only one to collect." He grinned, holding by the tenden for Ulfrik to see.

"Not bad," Ulfrik shrugged as he and Triss walked towards Arvid as he stuffed the enormous eye into a burlap sack. "But the flip was dangerous, no need to show off in front of the sorceress."

"Then when do I show off?" He smirked.

"Normally? A tavern, bit safer-less giant monsters." Patting Arvids back as he moved ahead of him with Triss close behind.

They stopped at the base of a mountain and it was there that Triss muttered an incantation waving her hands over the rock and soon it began to shudder yet it was quiet. Revealing itself to be an illusion Triss folded her arms in a satisfactory matter as she turned to the witchers.

"I put that there, almost couldn't recognize my own handiwork it was so well done."

"I'm sure someone has told you that." Ulfrik sighed walking into the cave, "Still haven't told us much about the job, unless of course you're luring us to our deaths in order to preform an autopsy on a fresh subject."

It was definitely elven, pillars done in their elegant style were everwhere as well as the well made stone floor, now Ulfrik thought it was well made because it was still there, barely however as most of it was crumbling and knowing that someday all elven relics like this would be lost, maybe even forgotten, Ulfrik let out a somber breath as he walked through what remained of a hallway with the ceiling all cave though, condensated water dripping on the floor beneath as the trio made their way through. Ulfrik handed Arvid a vial after taking a sip, he felt his eyes ache for a moment as the dark cave became much more clear.

"This is _not_ a trap...besides I've told you exactly what I want, an amulet."

"Fine, fine." Ulfrik couldn't help but feel she was leaving somthing out, like a buzzing in the back of his head as she lead the way with Ulfrik and Arvid close behind. It wasn't long after entering another passage did Ulfrik see what exactly he was hired for.

"My, my." He stroked his beard as he sat on his heals. As he watched the gaurdians of a large entryway stand in front of it.

They were clad in balck armor that was engraved in glowing runes as one held a halbred, the other a sword. Standing as still as the moutnian they were under however Ulfrik knew that if he got too close they would most likely attack.

"Those runes-"

"Ancient, I don't recognize them." Ulfrik muttered as he stood up, turning to Triss.

"You know it's here?" He asked.

"I spent the last year reaserching this place, an elven amulet of great magic lies in there."

"But you're not sure what it does?" Arvid added.

Narrowing her eyes at the young witcher Triss simply replied. "Well? Are we going down there or not?"

"Alright, as long you can help I think we can make it."

Arvid swallowed hard, he wasn't sure what was going to happen and that scared him. The unknown can make anyone frightened although he was taught to push past fear as Ulfrik had shown him that if he was afraid of things that go bump in the night he'd be a poor witcher. That the only way to face fear was with your own brand of fear, to use what makes you recoil and lash it out upon others. Drawing his silver sword Ulfrik hopped off the plateu followed by Arvid and Triss who teleported down into the larger room with them as Ulfrik outstretched his left hand signaling Arvid to approach the halbredier. He twirled his sword as he approached the black knight the runes on his armor glowing, seemingly burning the armor as Ulfrik finally stood a good two feet from the knight weilding a sword he tossed a dimeritum bomb to Arvid who lit it and both witchers tossed them at the knights...with no effect, they didn't even move.

A bit worried Ulfrik then raised his sword and used it to poke at the guard...nothing. He turned to Arvid who he witnessed do the same and bare the same result.

"Um...well, maybe we need to try and get into the other chamber?" Arvid looked to Triss who walked pass them both swiftly hopped up the steps only for a barrier to appear and the two knights were set a blaze with blue fire, that once again ignored the powers of dimeritum, with Ulfrik parrying just in time as his attack struck with such speed even he was taken off guard. Arvid doged the slightly slower halbredier then after doging another strike tried using the ard sign. It worked, causing the knight to stumble and giving Arvid a chance to probe for weakness, he thrust his blade into the knights back where his breast plate met his lower back, nothing. Arvid ququickly lept to avoid a quick recovery and retaliation via the halbred.

As Ulfirik deflected quick strikes he caught sight of Triss using magic against them only for the Knight to turn around and take the full force of her firey power and simply stare at her. Giving Ulfrik the opportunity to strike he raised his sword high above his head and came down on its arm causing it to fall off and the armor scattered about on the floor and the runes on his arm faded.

"Don't stab, cut!" Ulfrik called out to Arvid who was still avoiding the ranged attacks.

Ulfriks attacker picked up his sword and gave it a swing as Ulfrik drew a semi-circle in the ground and held his sword at eye height as he crouched for an attack, leaping the witcher struck from above, ducking to evade a diagonally swung blade Ulfrik cast the yrden sign beneath the knights feet, slowing him down significantly. Ulfrik took advantage and when he stood up the witcher lashed out and removed the head of the knight. With his head now gone the rest of the rune covered armor collapsed to the ground, clanking and clanging as the runes went out.

He turned to see Arvid as he caught the halbred, gripping the middle of the weapon, held tightly with his right hand as now it hand become a power struggle between the two as Arvid then used his left hand weilding his silver to cut through the knights right arm and the left quickly followed as the black armored knight looked to the ground, seeing that he had no arms the wraith simply fell to the ground its armor scattering about. Letting out a sigh of relief Arvid turned to Triss who had already made her way into the now clear entryway.

Ulfrik smiled at Arvid, placing his arm around him as they walked up the stairs together they heard a cry of frustration.

"Argh!"

"Something wrong m'lady?" Arvid called out.

"Something wrong? No, not at all just the fucking amulet isn't here!"

"Sorry to here that-"

"Oh you're sorry...well that'll make it reappear, it is magic after all..." Her head fell into her hands and shook side to side. as the witchers stood there watching her, silently Ulfrik wanted to help but wasn't quiet sure what to do.

"I-I needed that amulet...it was going to heal me."

"Are you sick?" The younger asked.

"No, no...I...wanted, I need..." She had a faint smile, running her hand across her forehead, "Why is this so hard?" She then tugged at her high collar, enough for Ulfrik to see the malformed skin on her chest, much like the right side of his neck and entire shoulder.

"I can't fix it with elixir, I'm fucking allergic...the amount needed to fix _this_ would probably kill me, This was supposed to...nevermind."

"You could tell us." Ulfrik prodded, he didn't like seeing her frustrated like this, not the pleasent girl he had met on the docks. She seemed so joyful even if he never knew her.

"I was hoping it would..." She glanced at Arvid and then Ulfrik and shook her head.

"Where can I find a drink?"

Looking to each other Ulfrik nodded to Arvid and then looked to the Sorceress. "That we can help you with."

"You were right, this is nice." Triss crossed her legs as Ulfrik sat down across from her in the sauna, she had her chest and waist covered with a towel as the witchers simply wrapped one around their waists.

"Yeah we like to make it up here every winter, good for the lungs and skin..." Arvid glanced to Ulfrik and his near mangled body, aside from the griffin scar he had lash marks on his back, dots of arrow penetration on his left shoulder, a stab wound on his stomach, the list could go on. Triss had almost felt bad for him, even Arvid as young as he was bore a thick line across his chest that almost looked fresh. She also must admit, she spotted the beginings of a older scar on his inner right thigh.

"Forktail, trial of the medallion...a couple moths ago." He grinned like he was proud of it, then again it's something witchers had in common.

"How old are you?" Triss has had first hand experience with the witcher school of parenting at least Arvid was a boy...then again that also meant he had undergone the trial of the grasses. Horrid, but it was a reality.

"Eighteen." Arivd answered dryly. Triss still thought he was too young to be a witcher but then again, it's a fairer shake than most, well built, educated, strong, skilled, minor magical abilities, hell if it wasn't so gruesome a process there would be more witchers than anyone would know what to do with. Yet, there would be horrible and violent wars the likes of which no one had ever seen, untold violence, perhaps it is for the best they cannot conventionally breed.

"May I ask you something Ulfrik? It's a bit personal so I'd-"

"Knife fight."

"What?"

"My eye...lost it in a knife fight when I was seventeen."

Arvid had a knowing look, that Ulfrik hadn't told her the whole story but that was alright Triss thought, he had answered her question.

"That is what you were asking, right?" taking a sip from the cup next to him, as the older witcher sat unceremoniously legs spread, while Triss couldn't see anything she could see Ulfriks rather hariy chest. _I supose that's why he's called the_ _bear._

"Mm-hm. And...Sodden, when Nilf-"

"I know, Dandelion paints a wonderful picture, don't you think Arvid?"

"Mm-yes, a master at his craft." He said putting his own cup down.

Triss snorted, "Don't let him hear you say that, bastard is full of himself..." She glanced at Ulfrik who caught her gaze and then Arvid whose eyes were closed as he breathed in the sauna air. When Arvid opened his eyes Triss had walked over to him holding out her cup.

"Be a doll?" She asked coyly holding out her cup.

With a sigh Arvid took it and walked towards the door where the kegs were, outside. There he found a line, short but no less frustrating as he finally reached the wine barrels. Heading back in he saw that both Ulfrik and Triss were gone, he let out a frustrated sigh as he saw a group of girls giggling at him.

"They left without you." One said.

"She gave the other monster slayer a kiss and they headed off to the bedrooms."

"She could've done that when I was around, save me the trip." Arivd took a sip from his own cup as he turned towards the ladies basking in the steam.

"Ah yes, but then you wouldn't have brought me wine."

A dark haired woman with glistening brown eyes held out her hand as Arvid walked over to join them, _definitely should've taken the old man earlier._

First I'd like to thank those that have reviewed and favorite the story, I'm glad you find the Witcher Ulfriks tales entertaining as well as worthy of note.

Secondly, this chapter along with the first two was finished when I posted the Redux version of "The Bear" I thought it would be shitty if I took down twelve chapters with nearly 100k words without at least a few to start off with, the fourth chapter is half finished and should be up in a week or so.

And lastly thank you for reading, I like many on this sight simply require a creative outlet, a place to share my imagination and be criticized for (hopefully) the better (Any and all grammatical errors please let me know, I can only read these to myself so many times) and to be better.

Good morning, afternoon, night, what ever time it may be.


	4. A'baeth

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Under Ulfriks boots as he waded through the snow softly walking as he held his crossbow at the ready. There was a light snowfall and the chill in the air wasn't horrible yet it pierced all around him as he carefully walked through the forests. Today he was not hunting for ogres, leshys, or chorts but deer, the man was simply hungry and had a young boy with him who remained at camp tending the fire and if he saw a rabit or a deer, Arvid was to shoot them with his own crossbow. It was unlikely though as Ulfrik had yet to find anything but bear scat which he found almost ironic. Ulfrik did enjoy his alone time every now and then, what with taking care of a little witcher twenty-four-seven and all that comes with it, that being said Arvid is reasonably well behaved. He listens most of the time anyway or at least Ulfrik thinks he does, ever since the avalanche two years ago he had been on the road with him, what happened on the hidden isle would haunt Ulfrik for the rest of his life. Berand, Torsten, Ivor, all gone not to mention Laird the man who had taught Ulfrik everything he knew died a few weeks before, killed by a stray orge. Ulfrik and his brothers avanged him soon after as they found young Arvid pulling the old mans body back to the valley. Events and feelings that felt like they had happened ages ago yet sometimes it felt like yesterday.

Arvids training had become...difficult, considerably less conventional for a witcher as Ulfrik had to spar with him for hours at a time as all the equipment for a traditional training regiment was gone. He would never be a real witcher, a hunter, killer, a professional. One who must be fordged in solitude but instead Arvid would get real experience...as brutal as witcher training is, now Ulfrik is worried of the boys safety almost every day.

Taking in a breath of the cool, crisp air he wacthed as the air condensated around his mouth as clumps of snow fell to ground. Ulfrik looked up at the bare trees, many of which he could hear were ready to fall as the twisting binding noise of the wood filled the air, along with the sounds of hooves.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Ulfriks eye widened at the sight of a elk, a fully grown female _. Perfect,_ he cast axii so it would stay still as he approached it, placing his crossbow on his back next to his swords as he placed a hand on the flea ridden elk, calming the beast as he pet it.

"Shh." He cast axii once again over the animals head and drew his sword, as he felt the tip of the sword leave the scabbard he heard the sound of an arrow pushing through the air and soon a dramatic fleshy noise followed as it connected with the elks left haunch causing the beast to ignore his commands and run away leaving a very clear trail.

"Wha-" He turned to see a woman not far from him as she pushed him into a tree with Ulfrik catching sight of her ears, elven. she passed him without looking back and with a low growl Ulfrik quickly recovered, pushing off the trunk of the tree he pursued the elf with her short fur cloak and on her belt, a squirrel tail. _Scoia'tael, This far in Temaria?_ It didn't take long for him to catch her, as tall and broad as Ulfrik is many forget that as a witcher he's acceptionally light on his feet. It even startled the elf as she turned to see the hulking skelliger sprinting through the snow. She let out a grunt as Ulfrik tackled her by the feet only for her to kick him on the blind side of his face and quickly recovered from her fall as she went right back after the elk.

"Gah!" Ulfrik felt the blow in his teeth as the pain shocked and carried across his face, oh the gloves were off now as he got right back up after she slipped away once again with the witcher kicking up snow in the chase, Ulfrik ignored the sounds of the forest as he focused on her, even ignoring the elk that was getting away as he lept over a fallen tree with ease, using his momentum he held onto a tree as he turned in mid air while the elf scuttled to the side, his foot just missing her as she grabbed it in the air and was able to leverage the witcher up into the air and on his back as she quickly drew her bow and sent an arrow overhead, no sooner did Ulfrik hear the squealing death cry of an elk.

Now angry, Ulfrik who was too fast for the elf grabbed her by the belt and pulled her down. Forcing her onto her back Ulfrik held her by the neck yet he was not choking her.

"Sheyss, vatt'ghern!" She cried out punching his side with little effect until Ulfrik pinned her arm, only to have the other wack him in the side of the head-with slightly more effect- he grabbed that one as well and forced it to the ground, he shouted.

"Voe'rle!"

"Aé esse neén!" She spit in his face, aiming for his eye but hit his temple instead. Rolling his eye Ulfrik thought of how he could solve this problem without breaking her neck. Which is when he felt a hard knee in his crotch his eye bulged a little as his stomach turned, his grip loosened enough for her scurry out from under him and hit him in the jaw with her bow, Ulfrik was dazed but not down as he stood up slowly and was quickly regaining his focus as he caught a glimpse of her running towards the elk. With her tan, almond colored skin she wasn't hard to find in the white snow, so when he caught up to her-which was a good five minute jog-he found her bleeding the elk, she stood up and faced him after sticking her knife in the ground.

"Squass'me" He grunted, keeping his steel pointed in her direction only for her to remove a small sword from her back, its pommel faced down as she reached for the blade.

"Listen hear." She said, "I don't care who you have to feed, I don't care if it's a child nor a sick woman, even another elf."

"Are you alone?" Ulfrik asked, lowering his sword to where the tip was just grazing the snow as he paced.

She let out a sigh and nodded. "Yeá."

Ulfrik looked from her to the animal and sheathed his sword holding the scabbard in place as he took a step forward. Her hands were steady, he figured either she wanted to stock up for the winter or she was just good under pressure. Most likely a bit of both, he put his hands off to the sides.

"Poor choice-"

"You know what I am...was it?"

She grumbled under her breath as she took a few steps towards him. Her sword still in hand as she approached Ulfriks hands moved to the ready, he tried to telegraph her moves when she finally stopped two feet in front of him.

"Who's with you?"

"Baeg vatt'ghern, only ten."

"Never seen a little one."

"Few have, I don't mind sharing."

"I do, I'm a bit selfish like that."

Ulfrik shifted his weight to his left hip but didn't put too much pressure on it. If things went south he'd be ready to pounce, yet she stood face to face with him, unyielding and unafraid, he found it admirable. He recalled a certain Renfiri who chose death by witcher, his reflexes were too strong there would be no choosing if she struck, no hesitation, unless she had one hell of an ace up her sleave, if the elf chose to attack, it would be her last decision.

Coming from the lower right corner of Ulfriks eye he caught sight of a blade moving towards him, closing the gap between them he doged the blade moving to the right as her weapon went left he tried to put her in a headlock from behind until he caught sight of the short sword coming his way, instinctively he jabbed her in the kidneys causing the elf to recoil which gave him enough time to grip her wrist, tightly and with a flick of his own super human strength, Ulfrik felt the tendons bind, the bones snap and twist in his hand.

"Ahh!" She cried as suddenly another jab to her kidneys and another, and another as Ulfrik finally kicked out her knees and stompped on her calves. Picking up her sword he gave it a quick twirl as she breathed heavy, clutching her wrist as the elven woman looked up at the sky for the last time as Ulfrik sent her sword through her neck. He watched as she crumpled to her back, face up with her deep brown eyes that resmbled nothing but black pools which now gave no life to the soul that had once inhabited her body. He bent down, sticking the blood covered blade into the wet, snowy, dirt as he reached out with his forefinger and thumb, closing her eyes, she was peaceful...Beautiful even, but gone...

"But maybe I'll make an exception..." She took a step towards him, sheathing her sword.

"On one condition." Ulfrik took a sharp breath as he then followed suit with another step back eyeing her hands as he had prepaired for the worst, they stayed where he could see them now folded.

"Which is?"

"A'baeth." Tilting her head she narrowed her eyes waiting for a response.

"I'd ask why but-"

"Just do it."

Ulfrik looked off to the side for a moment then carefully leaned down to her, as he watched her hands press his chest he caught her sent, fresh woodland air and river water, probably the cause of her matted and curly hair. He soon felt her lips on his, watching her eyes close he kept his single cats eye open and only for a moment did he close it. And when she parted, he was sure to watch her hands once again as his golden eye watched her remain close to him.

"Not bad, we can share." She patted his chest and walked back to the elk. Ulfrik, unsure of what had happened followed her and helpped her skin the animal. Placing the meat into separate bags Ulfrik getting slightly more than she as he had specified that Arvid would need to eat as well.

"You weren't lying were you?"

"Huh?" Ulfrik turned his head as he tied off the bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he stood up.

"You have a little witcher with you?"

"Yes."

"You have a camp near-"

"I saw the tail. You're not fooling me, not that I dabble in human affairs but what are you doing here alone?"

"I wasn't lying. I swear, I just...I'll be on my way." She began to head back in the direction they had ran, carrying her meat with her and the skin, Ulfrik thought it only fair if he was taking more choice cuts than she, although they both agreed to split the tender and delicious backstrap. As she reached a good yard and a half away Ulfrik shook his head.

"Ulfrik." He called out.

"Squass'me?"

"My name, Ulfrik...of Faroe."

"That's in Skellige, right?" She asked turning around.

"Yeah."

"Agalari, nice to meet you... _Ulfrik_."

She had dark brown pools for eyes and her hair was a matted black that was tied up low and rested on her neck, with more than a few loose strands, she had clearly been out here alone for a while now that Ulfrik had gotten a good look at her. With her ears adorned with multiple rings and piercings and her tan skin looked smooth and warm, what made Ulfrik feel unease around her, was how he felt about her, without even knowing much about her at all really. It didn't seem normal to him, yet he understood it must simply be an infatuation. Something about her triggering a strong attraction from him as he stood in place holding his bag of elk as she looked from one end of the forest to the other with nothing but trees and snow between them.

"Would it be wrong if I joined you? Considering how well we seem to get along." She smirked as she approached him once more as Ulfrik tilted his head from side to side mocking her a bit as he then shrugged.

"I suppose it would be nice to not walk alone."

"Agreed."

Ulfrik woke up the next morning alone, and a bit surprised at that as he glanced around his tent for any sign of Agalari aside from a strand of her dark hair. He guessed she had left yet in the air there hung the sent of fresh meat being cooked. Could be Arivd, Ulfrik thought as he pulled his pants on and reached for his shirt and long dagger that had a spiked hand-guard, after securing it to his waist he walked out of his tent and saw a elf, her arms were strong (As Ulfrik had learned the hard way) visibly so as her muscles curled and flexed as she sat on her heels by the fire with Ulfrik and Arvids only cast-iron pan.

She was poking at the elk all wrapped up in Ulfriks furry blanket as she stood hunched over barefoot in the dirt and snow. She turned to Ulfrik and smiled as he walked towards her kicking a log up and wiping the wet mud off of it before sitting down to retrieve his pipe from his pocket.

"Good morning." She said lifting the elk meat off the pan and onto a small metal plate as she walked over next to Ulfrik picking at the meat she held out a small chunck to his bearded face.

"Morning." He said, and what a pleasant one at that. As Agalari kicked another log next to Ulfrik as he signed igni to light his pipe. She tightened the blankets grip around herself as she picked at the meat, finding a nice piece for herself then Ulfrik.

"Sleep well?" She asked.

"Quite, and yourself?"

She was an obnoxious chewer, and he caught her wiping her mouth on his blanket, in manner she was quite a brute, not that it bothered him much as he had been called the same-worse even, he watched her eat while taking a drag.

"Mm-hm" mouthful of food, "I especially enjoyed the sex." She leaned her head on his shoulder with a small yet affectionate nudge of her chin.

 _Well._ Ulfrik couldn't hold the slight bashfulness that had overcome him, he heard a rustling from the second tent, watching Arvid bumble out of his tent while rubbing his eyes as he sniffed the air. He smiled as he walked towards the dieing fire and then spied Agalari with Ulfrik, he had seen her yesterday but only for a short time as she and and Ulfrik hit the hay a bit early. He wasn't blind, as a witcher he knew more than most his age, even if he didn't understand what it was like to stand in front of a fiend, feel the stench of its breath as it shrieked at you, the speed of the beast itself-yet he knew. He also had an idea of what sex was, and as a young lad he found it a bit repulsive, along with all the annoyance of the moans and occasional...other sounds.

"Morning Arvid." She said as he plucked himself a chunk of the elk after stoking the fire, the little one couldn't sign yet but he was working on it, Ulfrik had him practicing on bundles of sticks and for some reason he could always nail yrden yet couldn't quite get much else.

"Morning." His large cats eyes danced from Ulfrik to to Agalari and then Agalari to Ulfrik.

"Are you staying?"

"Hm?" Wiping her mouth with her wrist after finishing her breakfast, she looked to Ulfrik who didn't respond much more than a sideways glance as tobacco billowed from his nose. In truth Agalari had no family and no where else to go, she couldn't approach towns as most had a deep hatred for elves (esspecially in Temeria) and the scoia'tael didn't help relations by much either. But a witcher...he can walk both worlds and while both worlds may equally dislike him they both realized how much they need someone to moderate the gap between them, traveling with a couple of witchers could be benificial, eyeing Ulfrik she figured it might even be fun.

"Is that bad?" Agalari asked.

"No, just curious." He said waiting for the elk to cook. Once it did he walked over to Ulfrik and sat down beside him propping his back against the log his mentor was sitting on and quietly munched as the boy turned, looked to Ulfrik who was basking in the morning sun as the witcher placed a hand on little Arvids head then finally looked to Agalari, giving her a world-weary smile-the only one he could give most days - as the elf leaned over and looked to the boy who unknowingly turned his head from her direction at the same time.

"Then I'll stick around, as long as it's okay with you Arvid."

What Arvid couldn't see due to his position on Ulfriks left is what he could sense, through no real focus or training he could sense, a'baeth.


	5. Of boys and mutants

The trees were rustling in the wind, squirrels chuckling in the distance, birds chirping, all on a clear spring morning in the Amell mountains, the barrier between Nilfgaard and the northern kingdoms...for now. With a slight chill in the air, yet for a skelliger raised boy such a breeze felt natural, like home. Arvid felt the breeze across his chest and face as he headed up the mountain trail, carrying a log across his back as he ran up hill. The last thing he needed was Ulfrik to catch up to him and catch him taking a break, 'don't stop or you'll get milk in your muscles' he said. He also said he'd get belted if he didn't reach the top before sundown. But to Arvids surprise their new traveling companion (and lover of Ulfrik) Agalari, responded by belting the older witcher with a shot to the cheek. Arvid was enjoying her presence a little more each day, she was soft when Ulfrik was hard, she was kind when he was curt, loud when quiet and quiet when loud, for only knowing them a few months past winter the elven woman had become more than welcome to both witchers company.

With nothing but the subtle sound of rocks shifting under his boots as he breathed at an even pace just as Ulfrik had taught him, keeping his mind on his breathing. As a mutant Arvid had a bit more control over his body and internal organs, at the moment you wouldn't be able to hear Arvid huffing and puffing like an average human, and all he had to do was focus on his breathing, with each step, each time he grunted as he shifted the weight above his shoulders, he breathed evenly and with precision. Even his footsteps were almost as quiet as a dear prancing through the forest.

 _Hello boy..._

Arvid stopped in his tracks, he turned around to see nothing but the forest around the mountain side, a squirrel scurrying through the trees, he let out a few tired breaths while sweat felt from his brow the little witcher could've swore he heard a voice-no, a whisper, like a impulse in his head almost. After waiting what he thought was a good five minutes Arvid headed back uo the trail. Feeling his legs begin to clench up as he did, however he knew he was more than halfway to the top so he pressed on with determination as Arvid grunted up the mountain.

 _Name? What's your name?..._

"What?" Arvid turned around, he had no idea what this could be, after all he had only finished his lessons on necrophages, ogroids, hybrids, elementa as well as common beasts - believe it or not there have been plenty of instances where the people believe there is a monster yet it is just a pack of wolves or a bear- Arvid had no knowledge of a monster that could talk aside from the ones you aren't supposed to kill on sight like trolls, goddlings or succubi, although when it came to succubi Ulfrik warned that some would try to seduce him, use his male urges against him. Ulfrik had said that control over such things divides man from beast as a beast will fuck in the street and not care yet a man beds a woman in his own bed with privacy and dignity. Granted, Arvid knew few things about the sexual nature and wantings of women...yet he did know that he bore a liking to them. He tried to recall other monsters that could speak as well yet only came up with certain species of foglet that could project a parody of someones voice in order to lure the unknowing into their doom.

Ulfrik had also mentioned how other types of subspecies also had the ability to communicate with humans via language or mental impulse, like certain gravehags or even a fiend (however rare) he also said that should Arvid even meet one of these and he is unprepared, (like now) he should run, fast.

"Are you a monster?" Arvid called out, now regreting that he spoke, if nothing came back he'd be a fool who could hear voices in his-

 _Of course not, my name is Amorath, I am no monster, see?_

Arvid slowly turned around, still holding the log over his shoulders as he once again faced up the mountain and where once was but a rocky dirt trail now, on a large boulder sat a man, his beard was gray and his hair balding, he wore a long brown robe with a rope as a belt much like a druid as Ulfrik had stated that wizards and witches are much to huaty to appear in anything less than the finest attire. Arvid jumped a bit as Amorath remained seated, watching him calmly as Arvid approached him. Even if the old man smelled as though he hadn't bathed in...gods know how long, he was missing teeth and bore a few liver spots scattered around his skull.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I've told you, I am Amorath. And your name?"

Arvid hesitated for a moment as he looked up the trail once more, again still holding the log over his shoulders as he dare not drop it. The cumbersome feeling had disappeared long ago.

"Arvid, and if you _are_ a monster, know that my blood is poison." The boy narrowed his eyes at the man who laughed, heartly and with much amusement as he looked at the boy in front of him.

"I know, the average village peasant may be fooled but I see those eyes of yours young Arvid...I know what you are." Leaning closer to the boy who stood in place.

Arvid raised an eyebrow as he stood silently in front of the man. "Is there something you want?" He tried to think of what Ulfrik would say how he would always keep a cool mind and maintain composure.

"Of course, I want a warm hearth and a place to sleep that doesn't reek of dog. Don't you _want_ things too?" He replied with another chuckle, Arvid was confused by his demeanor but he he nodded his head anyway.

"Of course. I want to be a witcher, like Ulfrik."

"A witcher, like Ulfrik...hm...interesting," He stroked his beard. "You'll need one of those necklaces that they wear...and a pair of swords, I believe one is silver."

Arvid rolled his eyes, "no, I'm not ready for the path, _yet_."

"If you say so, ooh-look a swallow-I rather like those birds, so pretty."

Arvid turned to see nothing but a pair of squirrels mating on a tree branch. He turned back to the old man to name him a liar yet he was no longer there, Arvid looked all around the area turning in place with the log squarly fit on his back. he shook his head figuring fatigue had set in and maybe he was seeing things. And headed back up the hill as the incline increased so did his speed as he lept up the mountain. Although the more he thought about it, he had figured it could have quite possibly been a spirit of the wood. Ulfrik had said that not all specters wish ill upon human kind as many roam the world in relative harmony, unbeknown to all who pass them by, even Ulfrik himself.

And on a plateu just in sight lay a small cottage where they were staying, figuring the more remote the better. With no fortress or sanctuary to train the boy or the equipment necessary to do so, Ulfrik had to rely on word of mouth to find a suitable place to show Arvid the "witcher ropes" as it were. He must also figure out how to properly prepair Arvid for his life as a witcher.

It was decent place that was positioned near a stream that was practically filled with salmon or at least enough for Agalari to get tired of it and hunt on her own, plenty of trees to build fires and it even had a couple of beds with separate rooms. Remote, peaceful, dare one say...perfect? Ulfrik was working on practice dummies, a young witcher out on his own with no training was much like the difference between a wolf and a dog, Arvid had to be a wolf otherwise he'd die like a mongrel, the thought that he could die due to improper training frightened Ulfrik and hung over his shoulders like a weight. It's all he could think about most days, how the school of the bear will end with him and become deceased, no more. Then again maybe that's how it's supposed to be-should be-even. Regardless, Ulfrik wasn't going anywhere without a fight and neither was Arvid wether he liked it or not. But still, the idea that what he was, what made Ulfrik himself would come to an end, the bear school would be no more but a memory for other witchers to mention as they drank or recalled the old days. As men would whisper in taverns as they often do, and lay blame and conjecture upon what was and is something that they'll never know. It is Ulfriks hope-his dream that some day Arvid will be sitting in a tavern, maybe even with a friend or two-long after he is gone- listening to men tell tales of witchers and their abilities and when they asked around if anyone had ever met one or if they had heard tales of such feats that Arvid would quietly hide his swords and turn his back...as a witcher should.

He couldn't help but let his mind wonder as he was tieing off what was to be an arm on a practice dummy when he heard a loud thump from behind. Turning to see Arvid head to the water trough.

"Don't drink too much." He called out.

He didn't, Arvid only took what he felt made him a bit more refreshed. Looking to Ulfrik who was waiting patiently as Arvid stood in front of him, the boy seemed a bit off today but Ulfrik payed no attention to it as he folded his arms.

"Ready for more?"

* * *

"If this isn't some of the worst foot work I've ever seen-I've seen dogs who could backflip better than you. You know if you fall off you tumble down the moutain, don't make me scrape your ass off the rocks."

Arvid hopped from one stake to the next, utilizing his inhuman abilities to maneuver the line of wooden stakes pounded into the ground by Ulfrik across the stream. As he landed, his foot sitting firmly on a stake a fish lept out of the water only to be caught by Arvid as he held it up, with Ulfrik letting his head fall into his hand as he shook his head.

"What, you want a cookie? Argh, get down, whoa, whoa, whoa! Get back up and flip off the course! What is this, the army? Finally, now get that blindfold off and gut the fish, all that piss poor foot work made me hungry."

* * *

"Up...down...up...down...up...down-other arm now-pull up...down...an up...now down."

Ulfrik looked on as Arvid was suspended above him, pulling up in a large oak tree, with his left arm now.

* * *

"Arms like this-no like this, Arvid your feet!"

Ulfrik walked over and helped him figure the right stance as he showed him proper form in hand-to-hand. Returning to his original position in front of Arvid Ulfrik got in his stance, facing backwards.

"Now this is a little different, your back should look like this when I walk behind you, not like this, or this, or even this. You can't tense up like that o-or...what the? Lari, no interfering!"

"Hehehe!" She ran away before he could stop her. She'd been giving the boy water for the past few days, feeling some pitty for his tumultuous training regiment. Folding his arms the witcher glared at the boy with a mouthfull of water.

" _Arvid_...sp-"

Gulp.

* * *

Clunk! Wap! Bump! Hitting the dummies with his wooden sword Arvid pressed his attack.

"Remember it's a drowner horde, they very rarely travel alone and can swarm you in seconds-like now!"

Arvid ducked away leaping almost two yards as he thumped the other dummy to his right, then his left as he lept in a pirouette and twirled in mid air to land a strike on the tall one behind him.

"Not bad."

"Really?"

"If you have arthritis maybe, a witcher needs to be faster, more agile now, start again!"

* * *

"No, no, it's caédmil not...whatever that was." Agalari corrected.

"Oh...why do I need to talk to elves again?"

 _Thump._

"Never mind."

* * *

Walking through the cottage to his bedroom after a long day of training Arvid, Ulfrik noticed the boy gazing out a window, Ulfrik thought nothing of it as he went into Agalari and his shared room to change clothes, he had to decompress and get his mind into a different setting other than 'conditioning' and 'propper technique' figuring a dip into his demijon of Temerian vodka would do the trick as he walked out of his room he noticed Arvid now looking attentitively out the window, curious as to what caught the boys attention Ulfrik crept up behind him and looked out only to see Agalari bathing in the stream, running the water over her tight and muscular almond skin, and wrung her hair as she turned towards the men and began to wash her chest, she ran her hands over her round bosoms and down her sides. Ulfrik got caught up for only a moment before he looked down at the boy below him.

"Arvid."

He jumped not knowing Ulfrik was behind him."

"How many?" The boy sighed as the two stood watching Agalari.

"Hundred, make it quick if you want a warm meal."

He let out a sigh as he watched Arvid walk away and outside where he would do his push-ups, Ulfrik chuckled to himself a bit before turning to see Agalari once more once she was looking right at him with a certain finger raised.

"But I-" Ulfrik was sent grumbling along as he walked away from the window.

* * *

Supper (Salmon, the reoccurring usual) would normally consist of the trio sitting by the small hearth that lay in between the bedrooms, ignoring the little table they had and instead used it as a sitting place for whatever they couldn't (Or didn't know where) to put anywhere else, so it was full of flasks and vials, casings, fletchery and blades that were half sharp. This was Arvids favorite time of day as after all his hard work he finally got to rest, relax and eat something more hearty than the grain bread Ulfrik made. Ulfrik watched his diet carefully, giving him the bear schools specially made protein bread, this stuff could keep your shit solid and fed for almost a whole day, and with a witchers high metabolism and the high fiber content of the bread, you only had to wait a good ten minutes before you had to go. Yet it was nothing that could cause a stomachache, granted most witchers have iron stomachs and can process raw meat just fine, (Not regularly of course but should the need arise) Ulfrik didn't want to chance that and they had to manage their food already, granted there was salmon in the stream now but what happens when there isn't? They often plan for the day they'll eventually have to leave, as Ulfrik and Agalari had been planning on where to go next, they had both agreed to head further south partially for Agalaris sake as the southerners were slightly less harsh on elves as opposed to the peoples of the four great kingdoms of the north.

"Lari." Arvid said after finishing his dinner before everyone else.

"Yes?"

"Where are you from?"

Drawing a long breath as she turned to the fire, her earrings dancing against the light of the flame. "My father was a Zerrikanian slaver my mother well..."

She shrugged it off, it mattered little to Agalari now as she had left the sands of Zerrikania seemingly a lifetime ago, she remembered the camels, the strange clothes, the heat, and the well built warriors who were known for their skill with a saber. When she was little Agalari had seen a whole company of the Zerrikanian warrior women of legend wearing little yet their skills were almost unmatched. She caught another look from Arvid as he was about to speak again

"I thought slavery was illegal on the continent. That only Skellige practiced in such things." He scooted closer to her, setting his plate on the hearth as he wrapped his arms around knees.

"Their may be horrible prejudice in the north towards elves but, most of the slaves and most of the slavers are often elven although they do not discriminate when it comes to hard labor." She looked to Ulfrik as he listened thoughtfully with his pipe in hand. "They actually abduct people from Nazair, Toussaint, Nilfgaard, it's all common down south for lost children to be taken... I'm not trying to scare you Arvid-"

"I'm _not_ scared, I'm a witcher, we have no fear."

"Sorry little one, I forget sometimes, anyway, short answer; yes there is slavery in Zerrikania."

"Is it warm?"

"Hot, you'd both hate it." She prodded Ulfrik with her foot as he sat with his back against the stone molding of the hearth, his pipe in hand as he tilted his head watching her.

"They don't have witchers there either. I've only ever heard of them that is until I went through Nilfgaard to get to the north and everyone spoke as if they were real." She paused, smiling to herself, "the first one I ever met was of the viper school, he was very large yet agile...much like you Ulfrik except he had bigger arms, and much less handsome of course."

Never having met anyone from the viper school Ulfrik took her word for it although he had heard of one from Gulet who was said to be like a mix between a butterfly and a moutain, whatever that meant.

"Of course." Smoke billowing from his nostrils and leaking from his mouth as he spoke.

"What about you Arvid?"

"You've never been to Skellige?" He almost laughed, beliving everyone has heard of the isles.

"No, and I don't want to either, the north is cold enough without that frozen sea of yours, and those snowy mountains? No thank you."

"It's not all frozen."

Sighing Agalari shook her head, "silly, I meant your parents, I was asking about _your_ parents. Do witchers know their birth parents?"

"Sometimes," Ulfrik answered. "In my case yes, I was a farmers son. I can still remember my sister, black hair and blue eyes like mine...well they used to be."

"What color were my eyes?" Arvid asked.

"Brown like Laris."

"I like your eyes now Arvid, very fierce." She reassured him, with only the most rudimentary of understanding on how one becomes a witcher, if anything Agalari figured they give you a potion and in a few days, boom...mutant manslayer ready for battle.

"Ulfrik told me about my mom and dad a while ago. Said mom was a whore in Novigrad and my dad lost me in a card game." He sighed, he wasn't mad and how could he be? He didn't know his parents didn't know their reasoning. Maybe they were scoundrels or maybe not, he'd find out one day just not any day soon.

Agalari however fell silent as her eyes began to water as she looked to Ulfrik who shrugged, again as though it was nothing, in this world many knew that if you had anything that resmbled a childhood you were lucky. Most witchers aren't lucky, except for Arvid, or at least Ulfrik envied him in the sense that he gets to experience more than just frozen walls and training night and day. He got to breath fresh air and not feel threatened when he slept, that constant alertness Ulfrik had felt as a child as he thought of his time at Dol Aerith.

"You told him this?"

"He wanted to know, someday he'll meet them, his parents, if they want to- if he wants to. Mine didn't want to see me but my sister was kind enough to speak to me, let me eat dinner with her new family. I have three nieces and two nephews...probably long gone by now." He gazed at the smoke in front of him as it hung in the air, only for Ulfrik to blow it away.

Agalari was only now begining to realize what a witchers life entailed, aside from constant training that left Arvid bruised and battered as he would sometimes fail to track Ulfriks movements and be unable to block his strikes. There were times when Agalari sparred with the boy, beliving it to be a good exercise Ulfrik would usually let her take over for that amount of time, look on silently at they danced around each other. But now it sort of clikced in her head as though a switch went off 'you don't _want_ to be a mutant, it's not a peticularly good thing.' Nor is it healthy.

"But I have to be a witcher first," Continuing as he played with the buckles on his boots, twisting them in the light. "When my training is done I can set out on the path, right Ulfrik?"

"That's right." He nodded in Arvids direction as the boy had a glint in his eye, determined, just how Ulfrik liked him.

"Do you have a medallion for him?" Agalari asked.

Raising and eyebrow Ulfrik simply nodded his head as he refused to show it to Arvid, he didn't need to see what he couldn't have and certainly would not have for at least seven years.

"Arvid." Ulfrik turned to the boy, "it's past your bed time, mine too now that I think of it."

"Want me to tuck you in Arvid?" Agalari asked as she picked up her plate to bring it to the dish trough. He nervously looked at Ulfrik who shrugged and looked the other way, now only his eye patch visible with the lether cords that tied it off whisping at his neck.

"Alright." He yawned as he brought his dish to the trough.

Again, Ulfrik envied Arvid, he had no idea if Agalari would stay with them indefinitely, elves and witchers have similar life spans although from what Ulfrik had heard he could live quite a stretch should he gain lady lucks favor. But he hoped she did, she was so gentle yet so fierce. She could cuddle Arvid and in the next breath drawn an arrow and kill a man a kilometer away. When they went into Arvids room Ulfrik could hear every word (he has mutated hearing...and was two feet from the door.) He was in and out of the conversation but he heard Agalari give into something, Arvid had asked her to tell him stories about Zerrkania.

"Alright...but only because you're cute."

Rolling his eye Ulfrik stood up and went into his room, setting his pipe on the mantle above the hearth that he had built.

* * *

That morning Ulfrik noticed he was alone in bed, not at all uncommon for the mornings as Agalari's an even early riser. He went to wake up Arvid after getting dressed and when he opened the door he noticed that Agalari had never left, she was cradling the boys head on her stomach as they both slept soundly together, peacefully and Ulfrik thought they deserved a bit more rest. Laird would say he's too soft but then again Laird isn't here anymore. Then again who was Ulfrik to deny Arvid something he never had? What no other witcher ever had (To Ulfriks knowledge anyway) a mother, in a sense. Someone to care _for_ him and not take care _of_ him Arvid had been denied such a thing once before and Ulfrik would not be the one to take it from him.


	6. A long night

Surrounded by walls bristling with towers as they encompassed the homes and many shimering pointed roofs that carried banners baring the Temerian lilies in the late hours of the day, coupled with the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the walls of rock and brick, a bell ringing in the distance as a ship was coming to port. Ulfrik took it all in as he strolled down the citys main street (Kardo street) that cut through the city and led straight to the ports where various ships (mostly fishermen) would dock. Those that brought goods would sell them on Circle street, the aroma of fish was so strong and carried so far that every cat in the city would flock to the market. Ulfrik however mearly passed through the market, pushing his way through various people, animals, carts and stalls.

"Excuse me," He would say quietly, in his normally stand-offish demeanor. "Ahem-squass'me, hands off...oh plow yourself." Nearly knocked over as a man on a horse bumbled through the crowd Ulfrik shook his head, ignoring the trifle. As he knew his destination was upon him.

'The Silver Heron' the finest pub in all of Gors Velen. There he planned on spending his hard earned orens as he walked through the city streets, watching as children played with sticks, whacking at each other as the odd parry was thrown in every once in a while. He stopped to watch them for a moment, there was a boy with dark blonde hair like Arvid, although he was getting the wrong side of the stick. Ulfrik shrugged it off as he kept walking, spotting a begger out of the corner of his eye, he was missing an arm and had warts around his collar his shirt smelled of fish and his skin oily. Ulfrik ignored him walkingas well, walking along the cobblestone road until he reached a sign that was a few feet above him that read 'The Silver Heron' not that he really needed the sign as a trio of men practically fell out the door as they propped each other up, tripping down the street.

Ulfrik entered the now open door that beckoned him and was greeted to a roaring hum of conversation and good cheer as glasses clinked and mugs clunked against each other, songs were sung and there was more than one lute that could be heard filling the air. All was certainly right at the finest establishment in Gors Velen, where even a vagabond witcher is welcome as he found himself a nice lone table upstairs on the second floor, where he could brood and smoke in peace. There the merriment was toned down yet still in the air as couples danced to the musicians on the small stage, Ulfrik watched while carefully packing his pipe, leaning back in his chair he let out a satisfied sign of relaxation as he spotted a maid walking by.

"Lager." He said, placing a few coins in her pocket as she nodded and began to head back to the bar when Ulfrik caught her hand. She flinched at his touch, Ulfrik had a feeling it he had grabbed something else he'd have a palm shaped mark on his cheek. "You're quick...I'm also hungry, just got in from Dorian." Unsmiling and awfully intimidating to any man or woman, Ulfrik realized this and tried his best to relax his face, to little effect.

"I see sir, I'll get you the travelers specail, I'll be back with your drink soon." While she didn't seem to be comfortable around the one-eyed skelliger, she did smile before her long brown plait nearly whipped Ulfriks face as she whirled around and hurried down stairs after first floating around to the other patrons. Ulfrik resumed his relaxed posture, leaning back in his chair that was near one of the second floor windows where down below you could see the lamp lighter making sure the city the streets were lit. Also visible was the full moon rising in the dying sun light, it was then that Ulfrik felt his medallion twitch at the sight of it. It did that every now and then, the moon is a great sorce of power, as only the most experienced and powerful magicians can draw from it...even then it is said to be impossible, but in the realm of magic and monsters, the witchers know and feel deeply that such phrases are better left untested. Bringing his drink the maid set his mug down on the table.

"Enjoy sir."

"Thank you."

With his pipe in hand he rested his wrist on his thigh Ulfrik sipped his beer, cold, frothy, and refreshing, he licked the foam off his hairy upper lip. If it wasn't for the horrible smell or the swamp lands to the north, or the academy of sorceresses (Esspecially the academy, it mattered little that it was no longer in use) Ulfrik might have considered wintering here, spending his nights in the Silver Heron with Arvid, drinking, sharing their tales of the craft, their woes of the road. Sparing on the winter beach with the oceans gray waves crashing against the shore as they struck steel. His daydream was interupted as the maid came back holding a steamy plate with a cloth as she set it down in front of Ulfrik, fresh sausage, mashed potatoes drizzled with butter and fried greens. Handing her a few coins Ulfrik set his pipe next to his plate and dug in. He savored every bite as he remembered eating snake and frog in northern Velen, as few would even consider letting him stay in their homes, and there were lots of rabit on the way to Dorian. Yet it was now that Ulfrik felt like he could let his gaurd down and indulge a little as he bit into the sausage and scooped up the soft and buttery mash, crunching down on the greens, washing it all down with his lager.

"Excuse me?"

Ulfrik didn't look up as he figured the pleasentry was not for him. And continued eating, he was scraping the butter up with a slice of bread when he heard it a second time.

"Sir, excuse me?"

Ulfrik turned, swallowed and pushed his long brown hair back before he wiped his mouth with his forearm, leaving a buttery smudge on the sleave of his gambeson. The witcher raised an eye brow at the slender stick of a man in front of him. In a nice maroon robe with a teal collar that clung to his neck making him look like a turtle. His hair was fashionablly trimmed and dark, and his posture...smug. Ulfrik took a swig of his lager and motioned for the seat across from him.

"Thank you." He pulled out the chair and sat across from Ulfrik, munching as he looked at the man who seemed rather out of place.

"So, you're a witcher, yes?"

Ulfrik flicked the bear head medallion below his neck unceremoniously as he finished up his plate, retrieving a small red cloth from his pocket and wiped the corners of his mouth(The sleave just doesn't cut it sometimes.) sitting back in his chair Ulfrik eyed the man across the table, watching in silence as Ulfrik stuffed the cloth back into his sewn pocket and folded his arms.

"Alright, I represent the intrest of Lord Roderick Redorean, he heard of your arrival to Gors Velen and knew you'd be here."

The begger...the maid...Ulfrik thought of those he had seen that day, any man who knew the city, and who to talk to, a man who pays attention to details that others don't and more importantly. Someone who the city guard wouldn't bat an eye at. Clever but not diabolical, however Ulfrik imagined someone as affluent as this 'Lord Roderick' character wanted a witcher it usually meant a curse needed to be lifted, never is it as easy as lone nekker tearing up a garden.

"He asked me to request your services-for a tidy sum of course, we are well aware that your kind don't work for free."

"What's your name?"

"Come again?"

"Your name." Ulfrik scratched his face as he finished his lager and began to reignite his pipe. "That's usually how conversations start you see?" Ulfrik puffed.

"You've approached me-a stranger- and talk of tidy sums and jobs, under the table dealings- which this clearly is. And I don't even know your name."

The man had a wolfish grin, that showed his rather clean teeth and sharp canines that were almost vampiric in nature-they actually could have been since a higher vampire (If powerful enough) can evade a witchers magic detecting medallion, as the bear around Ulfriks neck remained still he now had more suspicions.

"Blaire, Peter Blaire."

"Ulfrik, now how hard was that?"

Blaire chuckled as he looked across the room as the maid walked by, he turned back to Ulfrik glancing at the moon then back to the witcher as he removed a pouch from under his robe and set it on the table.

"We want you to find someone."

"I'm no assassin."

"I'm aware master Ulfrik, but we simply require your witchers intuition and ability to track a man for us. Can you do that?"

Ulfrik pondered it thoughtfully, all they want is for him to find someone. No killing just finding, which is as doubtfull as Ulfrik sprouting wings and flying around naked declaring himself a holy messenger. No, he knew what would happen if he relayed said information back to Peter and his lord. As Peter fumbled under his robe once more as Ulfrik began to speak.

"Well-"

A metalic clunk hit the table as more gold sat in front of the witcher, Ulfrik looked from the gold to Peter...and then once again the gold.

"I think I can at least hear you out."

* * *

Ulfrik and Peter were walking through a more seedy section of the city, Ulfrik could hear every cat in the vicinity hiss and growl at him as he passed.

"They don't seem to like you."

Ulfrik shrugged, "at least they can't wield a torch or pitchfork."

Peter snickered in response, "What's it like, if you don't mind my asking..." Peter took Ulfriks silence as permission to ask away. "What is it like walking the boarder between the unnatural and natural world?" He looked up at the witcher who had a good six inches on the man as they walked together.

"Have you read any works on the conjunction of spheres?"

"I've heard it described as the _interpenetration of spheres,_ it was written by Danusia Stok, a sister from the temple of Melitele. She described it as a rather cataclysmic event combining multiple worlds including one that she suspected was hell itself."

He spoke with gravitas as well as held a learned and clearly well educated tone.

Which made Ulfrik uneasy, clever was one thing thing but Peter(A man who does grunt work for a lord) unlike most seemed to have a basic understanding of the 'other world'. He would have suspected him to be a vampire yet he was half-avoiding Ulfriks question. As the man waited for a response Ulfrik looked him up and down once more, and once more he saw a slender man with a maroon robe and a teal collar, dark hair with a little gray around his temples making him look quite distinguished, dare one say...lord like?

"Then..." Ulfrik began, "one such as yourself would know that it's not a boarder so much as a...shared space no one would care if the monsters had their land and people theirs and the _boarders_ were honored. Instead the monsters infringe on the territory of the sapient species...and it's my job to take care of them."

"Much like us humans?" He responded, still looking the witcher in his single cats eye, turning away as he spoke. "We came from the conjunction as well, pushed out the elves, the dwarves-"

"The dwarves aren't like elves," Ulfrik interrupted. "They comingle and live together in the same city's as your kind-I'm no human. People never let me forget that."

"A fair point, however who protects us from ourselves?"

Ulfriks head was beginning to hurt at the mere sounds of philosophizing, the condescension seeping through Blaires teeth as he spoke. Ulfrik knew one thing for sure, he slays monsters and protects the sapiens of the realm it's all he has ever known and the stubborn fool has been at it since Blaires father was a thumbnail in the womb.

Peter chuckled once again at the witcher, his smile was genuine at least. The witcher had as they walked down the docks, past the sea gate and to a large cargo vessel. They entered, the crew clearly knowing who Blaire is and let them into the captains cabin with nothing more than a few glances and stares.

"Tell me." Ulfrik said walking through the relitively sparse cabin as Blaire sat on a desk in the center of the room, picking up a plum and turning it each way in the dim candle light as he approved of its condition he bit into it, the red jucies bulging around his lips as he retrieved a hankerchief to wipe his mouth.

"Yes?"

"Who is this Lord Roderick Redorean?" Ulfrik said as he inspected one of the candles on a nearby shelf, waving his hand over it the flame went out, he brought it back over the smoking wick and the flame returned.

"I assure you he is most definitely real, that is what you're asking isn't it?" He said, thoughtfully chewing his plum.

"Not quite." Ulfrik said, standing in front of Blaire he placed his thumbs into his belt. "I meant _who_ is he. What does he do?"

"Is it that important?"

"Why wont you tell me?"

"Because I'm paying you to _not_ ask."

"Fair, then who am I finding?"

"Ah, the correct question." Blaire smirked in that wolfy grin of his as he set the jucy plum on the desk. "What Lord Roderick needs from you is, to find Dathan Quinn."

" _Dathan Quinn_?" Ulfrik rolled his eye, he never heard of the man but his name sounded horribly fake. Blaire sat up from the desk and moved to the chair behind it.

"About a week ago," The legs of the chair skidded across the floor as he pulled it out then gently lifted the bottom to scoot closer to the desk. "This ship was boarded by professional pirate, mercenary, and cut throat, Dathan Quinn."

"I presume he took something of great importance, a runaway daughter mayhaps?" Ulfrik bore a frighteningly toothy grin, the kind evil men bare when they get what they want. "So important that I am not allowed to know the contents?"

"Correct, now, we- _I-_ believe he is not working alone. Lord Roderick would like you to locate Quinn-well that's easy he's a cut throat I've already been to the brothels and have gained a consensus."

"Then you want me to find his benifactor? The man holding the strings?"

"Precisely, you know they say witchers are daft but I've always disagreed. All those tomes on monsters and training probably forges the mind as sharp as your swords." He leaned over the desk with one arm laying horizontal the other rested on his thigh, Ulfrik was sitting straight in his chair eyebrows raised as he lifted his hands off the chairs arms. "On with it, please."

"Of course-of course. My job as I've said is to look out for Lord Rodericks' benefits, I believe it is in his best interest to know who this backer of Quinns is, and he-or she- will rue the day they tried to steal from one such as Lord Roderick."

"What did you learn from the brothels?"

" _Brothel_ -singular not plural."

"Well?"

"Frielda gives an excellent blowjob-"

"Not what I-"

"So good," He held up his index finger stopping Ulfrik from further interuption. "In fact that Quinn has been seeing her for the past four midnights, giving you at least two hours to head on over to the Unlaced corset..." Resting both hands on the desk Blaire flashed his wolfish grin as he took another bite of his plum.

"Follow Quinn, discover who he's working for and the other half of the payment will be yours before sunrise."

Nodding his head Ulfrik stood up, habitually fiddled with his sword straps as he thought it over. "I'll do it. But if my life becomes endangered I'll want a five percent bonus as hazard."

"Unlikely but fine."

"Will I be meeting you back here?"

"Yes." Ulfrik left the cabin and returned to the deck.

* * *

Ulfrik waited outside the Unlaced corset in an alley across from the light green colored building with his arms folded across his chest. He felt the cold night air flow over his neck and face as he waited...and waited...watching people walk by, as he waited, picked his teeth, kicked a cat, watched a mugging, spotted a man and one of the brothels whores in the back alley of the establishment. All in all a pleasant time, his ear pricked up when he heard a hissing cat behind him. Turning to kick it down the alley like the other one Ulfrik stopped when he saw a young boy cradling a little furball in his hands while looking up at Ulfrik and his glistening witchers eye.

"He doesn't like you." The boy said as his eyes widened and eyebrows raised.

"I'm not fond of him either." Dead pan and with little expression Ulfrik remained leaning on the alley wall.

"What are you doing ser?" He asked poking his head out of the alley.

"Well..."

* * *

"So you have to kill him?"

"No-no, I don't kill people for money, we've talked about this. I'm a witcher, I'm good at finding people and this guy will lead me to someone that needs to be found...get it?"

"Why don't you just find _that_ person?"

"That's...ugh."

* * *

"How'd you loose your eye?"

"I didn't." Ulfrik sighed. "I was born with it."

"Like...when you take a pie out too early and it goes down instead of up?"

"Sort of, yeah." Ulfrik was impressed a boy his age came up with such a clever analogy.

* * *

The boy sat on an adjacent barrel from Ulfrik, swinging his leg as he pet his cat that was sprawled in his lap.

"No."

"For like...a minute?"

"No."

"Second?"

"No."

"Half a second? I just want to hold it."

"You can not hold my medallion. Period."

"Aw...wh-"

"Or my swords."

"Pox!"

* * *

"What are you doing here anyway? It's late shouldn't you be with your parents?" Ulfrik kept his hands across his chest as he spoke. Looking the boy in the eye and watching as he stroked his cat.

"My mom works there." He pointed across the street to the light green building, with a sign that read 'The Unlaced corset' "She has ever since papa left for the war with Nilfgaard."

"That was almost ten years ago." Ulfrik saw a flicker of light in the boys eye as he held on to his cat. "Right...say," Ulfrik had an idea as he looked at the young boy swinging his legs over the barrel.

"What's your mothers name?"

"Mama."

Ulfrik took in a breath as he tossed his head from side to side, feeling his tendons roll as small crack was made. "What do other people call her?"

"Hey you, lovely, nice arse, wench, whore, cunt-" Ulfrik waved his hand stopping the boy from speaking any further as the witchers patience was begining to wear thin.

"That's not a pagoritive-bad word."

He saw the boy think for a minute, hard as he drumed his fingers on the back of his cat. Causing the animal to purr incessantly as they sat in relitive silence as a wagon was pulled through the street.

"I got it," Ulfrik turned to the boy.

"Firmela."

"Frielda?"

"Yeah, that."

Ulfrik knelt down in front of him seeing as midnight would soon be upon them. "You wouldn't happen to know a man named Dathan Quinn, would you?"

"Yeah, he sees mama at night. I heard her talking to one of her friends."

Ulfrik felt a little low taking advantage of a child but at least he was going to leave him alone once he got what he wanted. Or at the very least wait a bit and watch for Quinn. "Could you tell me what he looks like?"

"Yeah, he has long brown hair, and a beard but he doesn't have the sides- the hair just covers his mouth, he carrys a curved sword, and wears black."

Ulfrik grunted as he stood up and watched for a man that fit the discription. He watched from the alley at what looked to be a band of cut-throats, possibly Quinns boys however they positioned themselves outside. A little obvious for Ulfriks liking, he had a hunch he wasn't the only man hired to do the job however, if Quinn is truely the criminal that Blaire had said, it is possible for him to have an outstanding bounty...or two.

"Can I ask you a question, witcher?" The boy piped up as Ulfrik didn't take his eye off the street.

"Go ahead."

"Why do boys like girls so much? And girls boys? It doesn't make any sense. Me and my mates can't stand girls, all they do is ruin our games...except for Elayne, she's alright."

Ulfrik chuckled as he turned to the boy peting his cat as the little animal happily purred on his lap as the witcher returned his gaze back to the road, and the men outside he counted five, which seemed about right unless there were men that he couldn't see, peeking around the corner all Ulfrik could see was an empty street, it was the same aside from a few night walkers and beggers roaming about.

"You'll figure it out in a year...maybe two, word of advice?" He saw the boy listening intently. "Growing up isn't easy, you shouldn't worry about girls so much, there's plenty of them and that'll sort itself out. Find a purpose first, a reason to be...as a witcher my purpose was given, but you have something greater and yet far more dangerous-down right unpredictable."

"What's that?"

"The ability to choose your destiny."

Ulfrik gave him a nod as the boy mulled over his words Ulfrik spotted a man wearing a black shirt, with black pants and boots, his hair covering half his ears, a goatee, and a Ophiri saber, strolling down the street as he walked up to the green building, looking up at the sky and then back down at Quinn Ulfrik knew he was late. But only a little, the mercenary strut past the others even giving one a knowing lopsided smile as he passed them Only for them to gather around him and draw their swords. Encircling Quinn as he drew his saber, holding it at his side as he looked at each of the five men.

"Evening gents." He said.

"Got a bounty on you Quinn, four hundred crowns...dead or alive."

Ulfrik growled in frustration as he drew his steal and made his way into the street. "Don't move." He grunted at the boy as he hopped off the barrel and hid. Ulfrik strode across towards the green building as lighting could be seen in the distance, and thunder followed. Giving his sword a quick twirl in his right hand Ulfrik set the blade on the shoulder of one of the mercenaries.

"I don't think you'll be collecting tonight." They all turned, even the man with the sword at his throat turned around to see the witcher as he stood firm in the street holding his ground as two of the four began to encircle him.

"See this medallion?"

"Yeah, means you're a freak."

"True, also means I can kill you in under two minutes, you have a choice here. Leave this man alone and live. Or test _me,_ and die."

"I'd take his word for it boys," The pirate spoke up, "seen him in action myself."

"Shut up Quinn! You're next!"

Ulfrik heard one of the men behind him stop just two feet away As Ulfrik remained unflinching as he stared at the man in front of him. He then heard a few quick steps from behind, the witcher was already gone as soon as another bolt of lighting flashed in the sky, the tip of his sword cutting half-way through the mans throat as he lept to the side.

"Wha-?" The man who was behind him had charged, his sword now in the gut of his comrade whose neck was flowing like a gory waterfall as Ulfrik quickly gave him the same treatment, the tip of his sword to his throat as Ulfrik grabbed a knife from the mercenaries belt as he fell and with another flash and rumble of the sky the second mercenary found himself on his knees as he gripped his chest. With two men left Ulfrik turned to them he placed one finger on his right nostril and blew into the street as he wiped the blood on his sword on one of the fallen mercenaries shirts.

"I'll give you ten seconds to choose your next actions." He said glancing at the two men who sheathed their swords and ran. Ulfrik looked up and around the street for Quinn, aside from the bodies now in the center, Ulfrik let out a sigh as he sheathed his sword.

"Great, just great, now I'll have to find him...again." His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You wont have to look far." Ulfrik whirled around only to recive what he believed to be a blackjack to his temple. All Ulfrik could remember after that was the boy calling out to Quinn, he didn't know what he was saying but he did hear him cry out.

* * *

 _"Ulfrik."_

 _He felt her shift under the sheets as he lay silently in bed, feeling the sun on his face he instinctively turned on his side_ _except he was alone in bed a morning ritual he had gotten used to as he sat up and adjusted his eye patch as it had shifted up his forehead a bit in his sleep. He tried to just pull it down but the leather cords had come loose, he let out a long reluctant breath as he untied it, thinking himself alone he heard a gasp._

 _"I'm sorry." He heard her voice again, the sweet and slightly low pitched voice he had grown accustomed to._ _Agalaris hands covered her mouth at the sight, seen by few under the black eye patch was an eyelid sewn together, permanently closed with minimal diagonal scarring down and around the seemingly empty socket._

 _"It's fine," Ulfrik smirked as he looked to Agalari his disability in naked veiw as she stood now with her arms across her chest looking away, her warm almond colored skin lightening in the sun as she walked towards him. Placing her hand on his, holding his eye patch as she took it in her own hands. Crawling behind him as he sat in bed, she peered over his shoulder and placed it gently on his right eye as she tied it off, tight yet still comfortable._

 _"You've never asked about it." Ulfrik said , turning his head to the left_ , _his cats eye gazing at her._

 _Agalari shrugged, "it's none of my buisness, if you want me to know you'll tell me._

 _Ulfrik nodded his head and felt her arms around his neck as she placed a kiss on top of his head. "Esseath me minne. I don't care how you got your scars, you've never asked about the squirrels or my time as a slave. Some things you just have to put behind you in order to move on."_

 _I don't think I can put you behind me._

Ulfrik felt a hand on his head, he groaned as his eye fluttered open watching a man with long brown hair and a rougish mustache with a goatee clinging to his chin. He watched Ulfrik, who soon realized he was chained to a wall. His arms on either side of him as he stared at Quinn who watched him intently while holding a goblet in both hands. They stared at each other for a while, each one studying the other yet finding that the truth was unfortunately obvious. No matter how hard the other stared, niether man broke.

"Blaire send you?" He asked, setting his goblet on a nearby table where a candle flickered, Ulfrik tried to figure out where he was yet only surmised he was in a poorly lit room with the moonlight coming in from a window on the same wall he was chained to. Poorly built as well, with water droplets creeking through the ceiling tapping the floor as well as Ulfriks head. His bottom was cold and wet from the rotted wooded floor, at least his clothes were still on. Meaning they'd rather just kill him, instead of keep him.

"Ulfrik?" The witchers ears pricked up at the mention if his name, "that's your name isn't it?"

Ukfrik lifted his head, looking Quinn in the eye as a sign that he was listening. His medallion was twitching, the pounding of heavy heals could be heard in another room, the twitch became a tremble. The magical pull grew stronger, as Quinn sipped from the goblet in his hands a key entering a hole and unlocking the door to the right of Ulfrik could be heard, turning his head to see a tall, broad shouldered man whose hood covered his face, Ulfriks medallion trembled lightly on his chest at the sight of him. When the man removed his hood, he became three and a half heads shorter, much thinner and certainly more curvy. _Her_ hair fell out of the hood, it was long and clean, straw-like in color as it fluttered about catching the draft in the room.

"Well." She glanced at Ulfrik then looked to Quinn. "You could've picked a better place...damn drafty, looks like the kind of place to rape peasant girls." She was fussing with her hair as she gave Ulfrik an icy glare. He returned the gesture in kind, even within his confinement the witcher still possed a threat or at least that's what he'd like you to think.

"And you. What do you have to do with anything?"

"Ulfrik here," Quinn answered. "Was following me. Probably for Blaire."

 _The boy_ , Ulfrik thought, he must have been keeping an eye out for Quinn. _bloody hell does everyone in this city have a price?_

"Shit...they know."

"Blaire knows-"

"That's worse." She shot back, her nose wrinkling as she placed her forefinger and thumb on the bridge of her nose. "How do you know his name?"

Quinn smirked as he set his goblet on a table next to him as he looked at Ulfrik. "This city has eyes, ears, and lips, one must only know where they are."

Quinn smirked as he turned to the witcher who let out a frustrated sigh as he relaxed his arms, the chains clinking against the wall. Ulfrik knew he had gotten himself in more trouble than he had initially thought, he normally preferred to work for the lesser nobility, counts and barons with the occasional Lord slipping in a contract or two however Ulfrik had never accepted anything to do with the intrigues of kings and politicians, he knew that he was in deep the minute he saw the sorceress. Surmising that a power struggle, most likely in Foltests court was taking place between this Lord Roderick and the woman in front of him. Quinn being a agent for her, just like Peter had predicted. A lone pirate would certainly have trouble taking a whole treasure galeon and it's protection.

"That eye, that medallion-"

"This sword!" Quinn interupted the lady sorceress, holding Ulfriks steal, the gaurd curved in the style of the isles, with a flowing etching inscribe, the pommel was simple, a round disk with a bears head roaring. "A friend of mine said there never was, nor is anything like witcher steal. Master quality, the silver is simply beautiful as well-"

"A-hem." The sorceress shook her head at Quinn as he shrugged and sheathed Ulfriks sword, gently and with respect for the tools Quinn set it on the table next to him.

"With the safe house compromised we have to move on to plan 'B'." She began pacing as the little droplets of rain that got through the roof seemed to naturally avoid her, even when she fell in their path. Aside from the 'Halfdans famous skewer stall' and the wonderful fishy aromas Gors Velen is (Or was until years ago) known for the academy of sorceresses, which was closed after it was found out that many of the council supported Nilfgaard in the second war, and when king Vizimir of Redania was assassinated, the north crumbled and caved, and left with little choice and without their greatest ally, not to mention Nilfgaard having crossed the Yaruga and into Temaria the great king Foltest was forced to bargain. What followed was a nothing less than a small massacre at the isle of Thanned. Now a shell of its former self- a relic of a bygone era, where magicians were respected and feared. While they still carry some respect and they still reside in kings courts that value their services and opinions, yet even that ray of hope for the magically gifted is dying a slow and quiet death.

Ulfrik wondered why a sorceress would even be here anymore. There was a time when they wouldn't dare use magic outside of Thanned as it was forbidden. However in this case, no one would be here to reprimand her-or so he thought. Quinn scoffed, he downed his drink and stood up, resting his hand on his sabre.

"Plan B? Blaire just plowed us from A to Z...I'm propperly screwed unless you-"

"Out of the question, you know exactly why I cannot teleport out as _I_ would be finished, even more so if you were caught, not to mention the bloody tower." Her eyes and nose never seemed to de-contort from what seemed like a permanent scowl. Ulfrik remained silent, none of his signs would help against a sorceress, and his swords were two yards in front of him. He closed his eye, and thought hard on how he could manipulate his way out and simply leave the city, 'forget the gold' he thought, 'I'm in over my head'.

"I'd be found out by Blaire one way or another. So we either come up with a plan that ends with you on a boat...or your head on a pike."

Quinn was troubled, he didn't look scared, he looked like he still had time, which Ulfrik wasn't sure if he did or not. He caught the sorceress looking at him, her scowl had twisted into a sinister grin as she strolled over to Ulfrik who watched her intently. She held her hand out to Quinn, who was thoughtfully stroking his goatee when he looked at her, puzzled.

"Hand, now."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Reluctantly he gave her his right hand as she placed her palm over Ulfriks exposed wrist. "What are yo-"

"Plan B."

Her voice changed when she spoke the next words in elder speech Ulfrik grunted as he felt a searing pain on his wrist, like a hot snake wrapping around it. When she removed her hand she placed Quinns right hand on Ulfriks and when she removed her palm from Ulfriks wrist, an emblazed snake was wrapped around his forearm. With a smirk she stood up, Quinn let go of Ulfrik hand and turned to her.

"W-"

"If you stray to far from him, you die." She lorded over Ulfrik as he looked up at her, arms folded and bent down slightly at the hip. "If he strays too far from you, you die. If he dies-"

"I think he understands."

Ulfrik twisted his arm as the firey snake hissed and contorted and wrought pain on his flesh.

"Good." She said after a period of silence, and as if it were a command, Ulfriks chains opened and his arms fell to his sides. The witcher grunted, he ran his hand over the back of his head where he was hit. Just a small lump that had gathered on the back of his head, when he stood all the way up Ulfrik found himself to be taller than Quinn by a whole head, the sorceress was less than half his size as she stared at his chest.

"We should talk if you live...Or not talk...whatever works for you darling." She almost touched him, reaching out with her hand only to retract it as Ulfrik gathered his long hair into a loose pony tail that touched the middle of his back. He sniffled, rubbing his nose he looked at his right arm and narrowed his eye at Quinn. It was quiet except for the creaking of the walls and rain tapping the roof. Before Quinn could even spit out a witty and feciciously charged quip, Ulfriks left hand shot up, forcing his fingers around the sorceresses throat. Before Quinn could even place a hand on his sword Ulfrik whirled her around, her straw colored hair flailing around and falling onto her face when the witcher pressed her against the wall he was once chained to. He felt her struggle for a moment until she realized how tight his grip really is. Quinn stood in place, his sword drawn yet pointed to the floor as all three stood in silence.

"Something...on your...mind?" She said wriggling under Ulfriks strength.

"Kill the caster, kill the spell, that's how it works." Ulfrik heard a hissing noise, he looked down at his right arm as it was outstreched and watched as the mark slithered up and around his arm.

"Unfortunately..." The sorceress coughed, urging Ulfrik to ease up as she tried to speak. "Not in this case darling, good try though."

Ulfrik growled in frustration as he squeezed each finger around her soft, slender neck, a shot of fear went through her eyes. He saw it and she knew it, the sorceress was bluffing, who knows the curse itself could've been a bluff as well. Then again Ulfrik knew better than to doubt a sorceress, yet he had no qualms with intimidating one.

"Your name." Ulfrik demanded. "I said-"

Before she could open her a stone-wet from the rain-crashed through the window and scattered glass about the floor. It landed a few feet from Quinn who dashed to the window, Ulfrik released the straw haired woman and knelt down against the wall. He could feel his medallion twitching and not from the sorceress, as she fell against the wall facing the street where the other two were kneeling gasping for air, coughing and wheezing as a voice called out from the street.

"Hello!"

Ulfrik knew who it was and judging by the sudden and long pause in coughing the sorceress did too. It was then, when the witcher looked out the window with Quinn that they were elevated on a second floor. Peering out the window Ulfrik spotted the maroon colored robe that furled in the wind. It looked a bit darker, no doubt due to the rain as it gently fell. Now Ulfrik wasn't going to waste time listening to a monolog however, they needed an escape plan.

"Good evening!" Ulfrik called back, shrugging his shoulders when the other two glared at him.

"Is there another way out?" Ulfrik whispered.

Quinn stroked his furry chin as he thought of a way out, nothing was coming to mind as they were in a warehouse with a clear entry and exitway, both were most likely covered.

"Ulfrik? Is that you?" With his perfect vision(aside from his blindside) Ulfrik could see a rather puzzling and befuddled look on Blaires face.

Quinn spoke instead this time, going on about how he surprised the witcher and captured him, and...well Ulfrik stopped listening and instead knelt by the sorceresses side, she had a bruise forming just below her jawline.

 _I didn't think I was squeezing that hard...oops._

"What?" She spat, obviously trying to think of a way out. As she held her throat while murmuring an incantation as she gently massasged it.

"Any ideas?"

"You can fuck yourself in the corner one last time."

"I mean-"

"Apologize."

"What?"

"You heard me, apologize for mistreating a sorceress and a lady." She was dead serious as she glared up at the witcher as he rested his arm on his bent knee, Ulfrik swallowed hard. If there was one thing Ulfrik rarely did it was apologize for something he did not regret. She had essentially enslaved him in the worst possible fashion and in true sorceress form (Perhaps excluding one that he knew of) the straw haired beauty cared little as to how he saw things.

"-Well, he's not wearing any clothes if that's what you're asking!" Quinn shouted down as Blaire gave a confused reply.

"I didn't even...I-what?!"

Quinn frantically glanced to Ulfrik who was still knelt down by her side.

"I'm sorry." Ulfrik grunted.

"For?" Her demeanor changed, she postured herself, pulling her shoulders back and head down-slightly and her voice changed to a more annoyingly flirty tone.

"Could you just-"

" _That_ doesn't sound like an apology." She reminded him as he stood up, she held out her hand for someone to help her up, flailing it up and down from the wrist. Rolling his eye Ulfrik heard a pounding noise from below.

"Witcher..." Dathan urged nervously as he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, standing at the door he waited for what might come bursting through.

"I'msorryImistreatedasorceressandalady, now please," He grabbed her hand and quite literally pulled her up, she made a soft huffing sound and gave him a smirk as she was inadvertently pulled to his chest, causing Ulfrik to take a step back. "Just get us out of here."

Her smirk turned to a look of concern as she begrudgingly turned to Quinn who was clutching his sabre as he stared at the door. She turned from Ulfrik to the wall behind him and motioned as though she was opening a curtain, soon a black swirling hole appeared out of thin air a look of relief crossed Quinns face as he turned from the door to the others as the straw haired sorceress stepped back from her portal and motioned for them to join her.

"Hurry-"

"You first, go!" Quinn ordered, She nodded in reply and headed through the portal, Ulfrik waited for Quinn as walked up to the black hole. Something felt off to Ulfrik, the banging at the door had stopped, even Blaire had gone silent, Quinn must have felt it too yet he obviously didn't want to press his luck. The portal closed before they could reach it, "no, no, no!" Quinn defiantly shouted as he held an expression of pure shock.

"I'll try not to die." He told Ulfrik as the pirate drew his sword. The witcher didn't say anything, as a matter of fact Ulfrik could no longer hear anyone below them either.

"Hear that?" Ulfrik said.

"...Nothing." The pirate understood what he was getting at, and carefully treaded over to the single window in the room. Ulfrik remained where he stood and kept his gaurd up, a man like Blaire doesn't give up...unless.

"Would Blaire have a sorcerer at his disposal?" Ulfrik asked, as he fumbled with his potion belt.

"Doubtfull, yet not impossible - he's well connected in the four kingdoms...his cousin is-"

He was stopped by Ulfrik who quickly took him away from the window, as a pounding could be heard. The pounding of large hands and feet running across rooftops as tiles shatters and skid to the ground with wood splintering under it's feet. Ulfrik was cursing Gors under his breath, 'to think I wanted to winter here.' His medallion vibrating violently as held on to Quinn.

"What's goin-"

"Shh!"

Rolling his eyes Dathan Quinn spoke in a whisper. "Can you let me go?"

The roof above them caved, Ulfrik protected Quinn as debris and wooden shard flew in the air, his quen feild held up well. However when he turned around and the yellow hue of the sign faded he was face-to-face with an enormous and quite angry werewolf. It's jaws long and powerful, his muscles bulging and in threatening posture as the beast stood erect on his hind legs.

"Good evening." He growled.

"Hang on." Ulfrik said.

Quinn went white as he stared into the beasts jowls. "W-what?" The door was blocked by debris, the two of them could easily clear the rubble...if there wasnt a cursed beast beast in front of him. Ulfrik shot aard at the werewolf, hearing it howling as it was lifted off its feet. Then Ulfrik quickly grabbed Quinn, cast his witchers sheild and launched out the window.

He broke Quinns fall from the second floor.


	7. A long night, continued

Ulfrik took in a long gasping breath before bursting into a fit of coughing, he felt a sharp pain in his back with each heave, feeling Quinn roll off his chest Ulfrik laid on the ground with his arms laid out among the glass strewn about the cobblestone street. Heaving breaths as he coughed in between each one, much like the sorceress had just minutes before. His chest rising and falling in quick succession. (Only he felt it in his chest and not his neck) as Dathan struggled to move the witcher off his back, tugging at the sleave of his black gambeson. Ulfrik fumbled around his belt for a potion, he could hear the werewolf angrily howling from above. They were hoping Ulfrik had sent the beast into the debris and caused one of his legs to be split or maybe he's impaled, perhaps his arm had been somehow lopped off, or even-

"I'm coming for you!" Niether.

"Come on, come on, you big, angry, pin cushion!" Quinn finally got Ulfrik onto his knees, and when he looked around to search for an escape he caught sight of shadows in the moonlight, dancing on the rooftops as they escaped his vison with the street lamps and blazers polluting the air with their light making it hard to see in the dark. It was only when an arrow grazed his shoulder did Quinn realize what was happening.

"Ah!" Reaching his hand to his arm, Quinn saw that he was bleeding.

Ulfrik heard a hissing noise an soon felt a sharp pain in his shoulder realizing the sorceress wasn't bluffing after all. He could feel the blood trickle under his gambeson and when he looked at Quinn he saw him frantically pulling at the witchers arms, slowly pulling Ulfrik to his feet. His potion wasn't doing much but he was able to stand. His vision was hazy and he had a ringing in his left ear.

 _'Ol'One eye done sulking? Good, now we can get back to work.'_

"Run! Let's go, Ulfrik!" Quinn finally got frustrated and started to run, just as Ulfrik had come back to his senses the witcher dodged an arrow, simply by twitching his head to the side as he took a few uneasy steps that formed a slow and clunky run, and finally when he heard the wolf leap from the building his disorientation soon left him and the witcher bound after Dathan, the snake on his arm hissing each step ahead the pirate had made.

"Don't look back!" Ulfrik called out to Quinn as they rounded a street corner. Pushing Quinn to move faster they hurried down the street, their boots pounding against the wet cobblestone. Smacking puddles as they heard the werewolf coming straight for them.

Quinn looked back.

"Why would you say that!?" He said as saw the wolf bounding for them, Ulfrik removed the silver chain from his belt, he gave it a few swings as they ran through the now empty streets as anyone who even saw the beast running through the city quicking got inside and shut their doors.

"Just move!"

They ducked through an alley, knocking over anything they could to slow the beast down, barrels, planks, an upturned table, anything really...poor dog. The werewolf leapt over the barrel, doged the planks, charged through the table and...well...poor dog.

"You heartless bastard!" Quinn responded after seeing Ulfrik kick the pup at the werewolf.

Ulfrik was to busy trying to figure out how he could face the beast without having Quinn interfering. Should the pirate get caught in the fight...Ulfrik would hate to see what other parts of himself open up should any more harm befall the pirate.

"Take this!" Ulfrik handed him one end of the chain as they reached the end of the alley, they stretched out the thin silver chain and quickly pressed themsleves on either side of the entrance to the alley as the werewolf (hot on their heels) soon ran straight into it, clotheslined by the silver he skidded under and off across the street and ran into another building. Knocking over a blazer and food cart. Quinn looked in amazment as he tossed Ulfrik his side of the chain.

"Good idea, is he dead?" Dathan didn't have time to stare as Ulfrik pushed him towards scafolding attached to a church that led to the rooftops. "We can gawke later." The witcher reminded as the two headed down the street, the church only being two buildings away. They heard a loud roar, Ulfrik turned and drew his sword, he stood his ground in the street, facing the werewolf. The witcher could feel the cobblestone shift under his weight as he sifted his feet into his stance, drawing a semi-circle in the ground he motioned for Quinn to stay down.

"Keep quite and don't move."

He didn't hear a reply, his focus was on the werewolf bounding for him. Upturning stone under his enormous paws and splashing puddles from the rain as they faced off in the narrow street, Ulfrik remained silent. His fingers tightened on the grip of his sword as he kept his only keen eye on the approaching hound.

Quinn had never seen anything move that fast before, in one moment Ulfrik was a rock, immovable, silent, still, and the next he was air, before the pirates eyes the witcher had cut the belly of the beast, yet it still stood, even more angry than before. Ulfrik twirled his sword and didn't wait for the next attack. He ran forward as the werewolf licked its wound, only to be stopped as he felt his head ache horribly.

"Oof!" Dathan was knocked to the ground. Looking back Ulfrik saw him get back up, and defend himself against two mercenaries.

"Aw shit." Ulfrik didn't have to time to help him as the monster took a swing at the witcher.

* * *

"Come on boys! That the best ya got?" Quinn egged them on as he dodge a long sword, with the pirates strikes being faster he was able to maneuver his sabre above his opponents right greave with a striking motion, slicing his knee and quickly blocking an attack from the left. Quinn backed up, only to run into a pillar of the scaffold. Noticing a well placed rope barely three feet away, one that attached itself to a pully system that was used to get to the new bell to the top of the church. Instinctively he cut it...and nothing happened.

"Shit!"

* * *

"He will not stop until you're no more. Dead or dishonored-no one betrays Blaire." The wolf growled as he lurched forward, breaking Ulfriks quen sheild and knocking him back into a summersault. The witcher now on bended knee stood up to dodge the follow up attack by launching himself to the beasts right side and then with a quick and precise strike the witcher cut through half the monsters leg.

"Gahhh!"

Remaining silent Ulfrik brought his sword down infront of him, holding the blade two feet from his face, his legs sturdy and far apart as he waited. Ulfrik soon felt woozy again, however this time the pounding came to his chest then his head, he couldn't see what was happening to Quinn but the blood tickling down Ulfriks forearm gave him some idea. That's when he heard the bell, it was far enough away that it wouldn't bother Ulfriks ears however, Quinn must have been right next to it. Dropping his sword to cover his ears Ulfrik felt his spine tingle and his hands freeze as his bones curled and vibrated. He tried to cover his ears, only to have the wolf on him in minutes.

He tried to jump out of the way but was too late.

* * *

"Gah!"

Quinn kept his ears covered as he stood on the scafolding, another mercenary had showed up-one of the rooftop archers- and cut the bell down, killing one of his own men and nearly deafening Quinn entirely, he knew he'd never hear the same after that. He had sheathed his sword to climb the now half broken scafolding, as the bell had fallen through allmost all of it except the ladders yet everything felt considerably less stable to him as he climbed up, he could hear the archer nock his arrow as the shaft of the arrow touched the bow, as the string pulled back Quinn had reached the roof and grabbed the foot of the archer and pulled him down, he rolled close to the edge but grabbed a tile to save himself.

"Almost, let me help you!" Quinn stomped on his hand clasping the tile and kicked him off the roof.

"Finally-oh!"

* * *

Ulfrik Rolled over to his side avoiding another close call with the wolfs claws and shot out a wave of igni, the smell of burning hair filled his nostrils. Ulfrik had been around corpse eaters, fiends, hogs pits, cattle, latrines, and yet nothing was ever as unpleasant as burning hair. He dove for his sword only to feel a large hand grab him by the ankle. His eye flashed fear as he turned to sign igni only to be lifted into the air and thrown across the street. He landed with his back against a wall five yards above the ground. Letting out a helpless yell as he fell and hit the mud below. The witcher didn't have time to lick his wounds as the werewolf was on him in minutes, grabbing Ulfrik by the neck.

"Weak! I thought your kind were the protectors of humanity, the apex predetors to mind kind...heh, you can barely hold a sword." The wolf chuckled and sneered at Ulfrik who was a good yard off the ground, he was grasping at the wolfs arm as it held him in the air.

"Mind oo." Ulfrik gasped.

"What? Cat got your tounge?" The wolf antagonized as he clenched Ulfriks neck, then in a bid for curiositys sake he loosened his grip.

"Behind you."

With a confused grunt the wolf turned around and saw nothing, he shook his head and turned back to Ulfrik, "you're full o-"

He was stopped mid sentence as a steel sword was plundged into his mouth, sheer and utter surprise crossed the beasts face as he dropped Ulfrik Imediately. The witcher ran for his silver sword, knowing the werewolf could survive the deadly attack with the werewolfs ability to heal faster than a witcher pumped full of swallow. Ulfrik was fast and it payed off as he reached for the sword in the werewolfs mouth and unsheathed the bloodied blade, placing the blades of his swords on either side of the werewolves neck.

It was instant.

"Ho-ly hell." Amazed, Quinn approached the witcher, his eye was black and Ulfrik could feel his own begining to swell, his vision being what it was was, now worsening by the minute. _Of course it was his left eye_ Ulfrik thought.

The witcher held his swords high and turned to the empty street, "Who's next!?" He sheathed his swords and picked up the wolfs head and threw it acorss the street.

"Ey?! I will slaughter every one of you! Until the streets are thick with your cowards blood!"

Quinn Put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's get going... _now_."

Ulfrik nodded in response, and follwed him towards the sea gate, they left the bodies in the street, their carnage, their chaos. Ulfrik would never return to Gors Velen.

* * *

 _The Delilah,_ Quinns galeon, was of a decent size plenty of men aboard as well. Now Ulfrik could see why such a powerful man as a lord in the kings court could be brought down by one crew. They were greeted by a tall, broad shouldered, and gaunt looking man, with a large burning scar on left cheek. Ukfrik had also never seen a man that dark before, northerners are a pale people with farmers tans at most. As a pirate Quinn most likely sails where he pleases, which made sense especially when you looked at the crew-their were accents Ulfrik had never heard of as well. He knew that at least one man was Zerikainian, another of Nazair but aside from that nothing, they'd brake out into foreign languages which gave Ulfrik a headache.

"She's here, captain."

"In my quarters?"

"Send for Hauks, I'm gonna need stitching."

The man nodded his head and walked away. Quinn turned to Ulfrik and motioned with his head, "this way." He sounded reluctant, which was fair all things considered, not only did she leave them but Ulfrik did try to kill her with his barehands.

She was resting her boots on Quinns desk which looked to be more like a table than a desk however there was only one chair in sight. Her entire demeanor changed when she saw Ulfrik with a seemingly dismissive attitude that became one of some surprise. She dropped her hands in her lap and looked from one man to the other, her eye brows thinned as her mouth flattened into a smile.

"You both look dreadful, I presume it was a success?"

"No thanks to you." Ulfrik grunted, angrily. He hated how she had played with his life, tieing him to the pirate Quinn and nearly killing him.

"Hush now, you're both fine...more or less, and darling it's just an illusion."

Ulfrik raised a brown as felt his eye return to normal, his shared injuries with Quinn now gone, oddly enough he could even hear better, looking to the pirate Ulfrik now felt a horrible ache in his back... _I wish the werewolf was an illusion._ He thought quickly reaching for his potions as he walked over to a small crate and sat down with a sigh. Looking from Quinn to the sorceress as they spoke, he began to retrieve his pipe.

"Keira-"

"-Hem!"

"He's going to snitch?" Quinn pointed to Ulfrik as he winced in pain, a knock on the door came and Quinn called in Hauks, a gangly elf that wore a red cloth tied around his exposed forearm, his sleaves were rolled up and he even wore a nice vest. _A real doctor_ Ulfrik thought as he watched Hauks stitch up his captains shoulder after bandaging Quinns forearm, fortunately the blood had clotted and little cloth was used to catch the blood.

"Keira." Dathan glared, he even looked serious.

"Your half is safely in the ban-"

"Not what I was asking, what in the hell happened?"

She folded her arms, and putting weight on her left hip. Ulfrik silently looked between the two as he lit his pipe. He caught a glance from both Keira and Quinn, Hauks turned to Ulfrik as he was mid way through his captains shoulder. "Could you not do that inside?"

Ulfrik set his arm on his knee and blew smoke at the elf, who had an irritated tick in left eye. Ulfrik didn't say anything, merely letting the elf know who was in charge and who wasn't. Quinn smirked, that devilish glance Ulfrik had almost found recognizable...annoyingly so as he thoughtfully smoked his pipe. Keira was giving him a different look, if he recalled her words correctly she wanted to talk...or not talk. Quinns smirk faded as his scowl returned to Keira, who was standing in front of the table as Quinn sat in the captains position that she had previously occupied.

"What happened-"

Keira answered quickly with a hint of desperation. "The bloody tower, I told you it would it would distort the portal-ever since that night...I landed in a barn by the way...I've had hay up my arse for two hours-does no one on this ship know better enough to draw a lady her bath?"

Keiras eyes narrowed as she grew closer to the table, Ulfrik puffed out a smoke ring, And Hauks had finished with his stiching, placing his instruments in the leather bag he had rolled out, standing up he looked at Quinn who waved away his doctor, who eyed Ulfrik one last time, Ulfrik, whose thighs were bigger than the elfs head, simply ignored the gesture.

"Fine...Makes sense I suppose. Knowing what I know of the Thanned massacre."

"You did not just called it that...In _my_ presence." Keira was warning him, a simple pirate against a sorceress. Her arms now folded across her chest and her eye narrowed almost twisting in that familiar scowl Ulfrik had seen.

Quinn stood up, "I call things what they are, hundreds dead, Nilfgaard and Redania battling in the streets in a Temarian city?"

Quinn slumped in his chair, wincing from pain, he reached below the table he pulled up a bottle. He uncorked it and took an impressive swig, staring down the distraught sorceress he nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh just...get us underway." Shaking her head as she walked away from the table. "I want that bath." Her eyes shifted to Ulfrik, who was quietly enjoying his pipe as he had removed his swords from his back and began to clean them, he wished he wasn't in a hurry earlier as monster blood can be tricky to clean, it was his silver sword the finely crafted weapon that Quinn had admired earlier, it's blade was sliver mixed with a specail metal Ulfrik had no idea existed, the thin and curved corssgaurd as was customary for such tools, to the dragon head pommel that fiercely faced upward when sheathed.

"May I see it?"

"No." Ulfrik answered simply, he didn't look up from his blade.

"Does it have a name?" Keira asked, the metal work peaked her interest, it looked like black fire swirling around the silver. Or tendrils grasping the blade, she couldn't settle on an analogy.

"It's not a person." Ulfrik grunted, glaring at her.

She shook her head, the witcher stood up and sheathed his sword, "Any extra beds down below?"

"We've converted one of our old latrines into a bedroom-a year ago-it doesn't smell or anything." Quinn assured, "we replaced all the wood...most of it."

* * *

"I think I'm impressed Zayte."

"Zialte." The tall, gaunt first mate replied.

Ulfrik stared at him for a moment. "Zeel-tay"

"The crew calls me Z."

"Sorry-"

"Eh, I've grown used to it. You're people do not know my language, how we name our children," Z shrugged, "if it makes you feel any better...I can't pronounce your name."

"Say it."

"Ull-ik?"

Ulfrik chuckled, then nodded as he saw a smile cross Zs face. "A little." The witcher said holding up his index and thumb and squeezing the air in between.

"We'll be in Novë-grad by the mid afternoon." He said before shutting the door behind him, letting out a sigh Ulfrik Set his gear in the trunk next to the bed, their was a desk and a candle. Ulfrik snapped his fingers and the wick began to burn.

 _"Again!"_

 _"Lari, it's not that impressive-"_

 _Her shoulders slumped and she looked up at Ulfrik with a pout. "Please?"_

 _Reluctantly,_

Ulfrik snapped his fingers, and the light went out.


	8. A man of reason

**This** chapter was previously uploaded however due to how long "A long night" took me to write and edit I figured in the meantime I would upload this chapter. So now I've placed it where I originally intended it to be so if you've already read this one feel free to skip it. As always any questions, comments, concerns I am happy to answer. And I'm glad that there are people enjoying my daydreams put to words.

* * *

The Oxenfurt region while down wind and also apart of the all encompassing swamp that is Vellen, subjects one with (but of course not limited to) mosquitos and fly's, spiders and cockroaches, the packs of dogs, and wolves, not to mention the monsters that lay deep within the swamp. Almost ironic that there, in what was Temeria-now soon to be Nilfgaard if the rumors are true- one of the cultural capitals of the world, Oxenfurt, and within a day of riding one can cross the pontar and into Redania where they'll find little swamps and the largest city in the known world; Novigrad. With its high walls and natural water barrier that separates it from the outside, making it a big fat jewel of the north. While the economy favored Korvir and Poviss it must be said that the Novigrad crown carries the most distance across the northern realm.

"What do you plan on selling?"

"Mm?"

Ulfrik and Triss had yet to cross the pontar and were riding through a tree covered swamp as they crossed a rickety old stone bridge that looked as though it was to collapse under the weight of their horses, it had been through multiple repairs and had less stone than wood, as Ulfrik gazed upon the area he noticed carts, whole wagons and horse carcasses long passed. As if the swamp itself was ready to swallow him whole.

"This shop you intend to open, what would you be selling?" Ulfrik, who at the moment wished he could smoke and ride at the same time. Especially on days like this when the sun was high and the sky was clear, the swamps (as foreboding and ominous as they were) even seemed quiet as all he could hear from them was the sound of toads and the bloody mosquitos that buzzed about his head.

"Tinctures, potions, alchemical reagents, a few accessories as well as magical assistance and insight." She added looking to Ulfrik who was watching her closely. His blank yet foreboding expression seemingly casting judgment upon her as Triss glared back she did her best to conceal a smirk, even turning her head to hide it.

"What?"

"You're to be a merchant?"

" _No._ I'm a sorceress, and our services are highly valuable."

"Okay."

Ulfrik knew that word once uttered, the one that drove any woman mad as though a string on a lute a just broken at the sheer whisper of 'okay'. He had to watch to the road but at least he was getting some entertainment at the thought of her face becoming red with annoyance.

"If you think it's a bad idea then-"

"I, did not say that." He held his composure well and didn't even crack a smirk as he turned his head towards her.

"Well, what will you do?"

"Not sure, probably prop up at a local tavern and listen, I doubt there's any real work for me in the city but the valley villages could have a few problems I can take care of."

"So you don't know?" She shrugged facetiously as he returned the gesture.

"Never quite do...need an assistant? I can cook, clean, hell I'll do your laundry."

"What other skills do you have?" Playing along as she adjusted herself in the saddle.

"Well, I can gut and clean any living animal."

"Th-that's a start. How about social skills? You seem like a real people person to me."

Ulfrik let out a sigh, "Maybe the sorceress business isn't my calling." Ulfrik caught a little smirk on Triss' face as she rode next to him, her hood bouncing, covering her eyes as they were in sight of the beginnings of the valley, yet soon Ulfrik saw a patrol of Redanias "finest" approaching. With the road ahead being congested, there was a good stretch of covered wagons and horses all backed up as the people were silent. You didn't need to be a witcher to see the blood on the soldiers uniforms, or smell it. The man in front held up his arm as the witcher and sorceress halted their horses with snorts and stomping of hooves in response as Ulfrik lifted his leg over the animals head and slid off, removing his gray hood as he approached the soldiers.

"There will be no passage across the pontar."

"Scoia'tael?" Ulfrik asked as Triss remained on her horse, veiwing the exchange as Ulfrik spoke to the captain.

"No, a beast."

"A dreadful beast!" Cried out a bystander as they rode away from the road.

Turning his head to the right Triss knew that if he had an eye on that side it would be looking at her, he refocused on the man in front of him and rested his hands one over the other on the strap around his shoulder holding his swords. It didn't take much longer for the captain to put two and two together as he gave a smile of relief.

"Thank the gods, can you help us?"

"Show me the beast, and I'll _appraise_ _it_."

"Alright, but please be reasonable master witcher."

"Nothing but, of that I can assure you...care to join us?" Triss walked up behind him guiding she and Ulfriks horses as she handed him the reigns to his gelding as she tugged her chestnut along following the soldiers to the bridge which wasn't far, it wasn't very large either nor was it particularly stable. Yet the beast itself was no where to be seen. He assumed it must have been inside the outpost that lay on the crossing as Ulfrik scanned the area for any sign of attack, no flames (already off to a good start) but lots of dead civilians, not many soldiers lying dead in and around the road. He could smell the acid in the air as it emulated from the bodies, he knelt down and tried to get a better look at what could be his battlefield.

"It came in from the east, swooping down it-it...fuck, I ain't never seen anything like this before."

Before Ulfrik could ask any more questions he saw the beast poked its head out from the station in the middle of the pontar. It had a short rounded beak, feathery wings and no gizzard, its scales were green and red with a few yellow ones as well. Removing a flask from the belt across his chest Ulfrik drew his silver and took out a cloth that smelled of hemlock and peppermint, dabbing the oil on the cloth he made sure his blade was well coated.

"I'd say it's a basilisk, judging by the scales and feathers I'm thinking male - not off to a good start." He carefully ran his cloth over the tip of his razor sharp blade as he held it out in front of him, looking down the length of it to make sure the blade was coated correctly. "About eighteen feet," He looked up to the captain from the ground as he was kneeling. "Minus the tail, probably a basic Draco pluma yet, it could be a yellow tail, in that case the fee may be substantial."

"I'll also be doing this while short on supplies, and short notice, I'd say that adds up to..." He stood up, looking off to the side for a moment as he appraised the job. "Two fifty."

"You're drunk."

"And three should it be a yellow tail."

"And you've hit your head."

"Then why don't you fight it?" Ulfrik sheathed his sword and folded his arms, glaring at the man.

"W...I can't I'm no witcher-"

"Then two hundred and fifty crowns, wont risk my neck for less."

Triss squirmed a bit as she watched the beast crawl out of the little fort, as did any and all bystanders as a noblewoman fainted at the sight. With its large feathery wings and enormous talons that adorned its feet as the scaly beast picked at the dead around it. One of the guards threw up as it popped off a head and obnoxiously crunched on the skull with blood dripping from its mouth as it watched them from a mile away, the beast was practically daring anyone to fight it as the basilisk stood, watching the road. Now Triss had a sturdy constitution and was definitely tougher than she looked and considerably more sturdy than any would give her credit for, however everyone has a limit, it didn't matter if she looked away because the noise was still there. The mushy cracking of flesh and bone, she wanted to throw up but couldn't, instead she just stood there and waited as Ulfrik haggled.

"Lucky you it's a green Basilisk."

"Two twenty?"

"No."

"Twenty five?"

"Still no."

"Ulfrik?"

"Hm?"

"Sorry to interrupt but may I have a word?"

His eye shifted from the captain to Triss then back to the captain as he shrugged and walked over to Triss who placed a hand on his shoulder, with Ulfrik courteously bending down so she wouldn't have to expend herself.

"Can we please expedite this?"

 _Crackle, munch, crunch._ The beast digging into a chest cavity of a woman as they spoke, another vomiting soldier turned away. As the captain watched in horror he nearly tore his hair out at the sight and let out a yell.

"Argh! Alright! Two fifty, just kill it!"

Triss let out a sigh, her breath hitting Ulfriks neck as he leaned away. "Consider it done." Ulfrik turned back around, he eyed the beast and nothing else, after a deep inhale and exhale he began to walk towards the beast, pushing past the guards and stray peasants gawking in the road as his strides became longer and quicker, his sword drawn and with a quick twirl he rolled his shoulders and gave both legs a shake to limber up as he plucked a vial from his belt and drank it tossing it to the ground as it broke with a hiss as what liquid was left escaped into the air, instantly killing the grass around it.

He felt his heart pound and a rush throughout his body as he kept walking Ulfrik could feel his adrenaline glands as they shot up like a kerosene fire doused with vodka with his muscles tightening and eyesight now so clear and so vivid he could see the stench of the bodies around him as he stopped just two yards from the basilisk as it munched on a human leg, the foot hanging from its mouth as Ulfrik drew a semi circle with his sword in the dirt around him and bent down with his blade pointed across his face at the beast, looking like he'd pounce any moment Ulfrik waited as the basilisk tossed the body in front of him to the side letting out a belch before it screamed at him, his medallion shook violently.

 _It will warn me, now that it's full. It will try to tell me 'This territory is mine now, I won it.'_

It lifted itself onto its haunches and spread its feathery wings, one of them had an arrow stuck between a few of them. As it took a step towards Ulfrik he tightened his grip on his sword, listening to the leather curl against his gloves.

 _It gave it's warning._

Landing just a few feat from Ulfrik the beast-in a flash-took a low swing at him, as though his feet were springs Ulfrik leapt over the wing as it passed under him, rolling in the air he landed on its left side and bolted for its torso. He slashed at its abdomen with the tip of his sword, opening up a larger wound than he thought he would Ulfrik quickly backed off, as the basilisk screeched in pain. Spitting acid, Ulfrik quickly cast quen at just the right time and was pushed back onto his bottom with the beast following up its attack by trying to nab at the witcher with his beak Ulfrik summersaulted backwards, and on bended knee followed up with a stream of igni into its eyes the fire roared from his hands as he willed it, standing up he felt the spell become stronger as he finally released it. The scales deflected the flames well however he blinded its left eye.

 _We're twins._

Ulfrik tried to capitalize however another wild strike came from his left-moving like lighting striking the earth- he lifted his sword, slicing the wing near the end of it, blood spurting across his face as he turned to look at the wing that now hung off like a broken hinge.

 _That was careless, don't do that again._

He told himself, catching sight of a small, knee-high, boulder near the beast Ulfrik took the chance and ran for it, his legs carried him faster than anything any of the onlookers had seen, with the basilisk chasing him as he leapt off the rock, turning in mid air Ulfrik plunged his sword into its shoulder, landing on the back of the beast and twisted the blade, the oil seeping into the wound, making it sting and infected as he removed his silver and leapt off the beast with a pirouette as Ulfrik spun, lashing at its neck with the tip of his sword he heard a screeching gasp as it choke on its own fluids once the witcher landed. As the oil once again halted any and all blood clotting as the beasts blood poored onto Ulfrik he shook his head hearing the basilisks heart as it stopped, his eye still able to view the scents in the air, his vision blurred with shades of fuchsia and light orange as the witcher stood up, breathing heavy he removed a cloth from his vest pocket and wiped off his blade. He turned to the beast and saw the dead-eyed expression of it. With a satisfactory grunt Ulfrik sheathed his blade and walked back to the crowd as all were silent.

He held out his blood stained hand, the captain dropped a purse in it, feeling the pouch up Ulfrik looked at the peasants around him, blank expressions, sorrow filled ones as they cried for their loved ones, and some remained silent out of fear...afaird of the one-eyed man, the soldiers most likely got the money from them however, Ulfrik cared little. All held their expressions of fear as well as anger, except for Triss who walked over to him, pulling their horses behind her. She pointed with a nod of her head at his arm.

"I can fix that."

"Hm?" He looked down and saw that his left shoulder was cut open just above the plate that was strapped on. With the elixir he couldn't feel pain-or at the very least it dulled it, figuring that when he cut the wing the claws must have fallen and scrapped him.

"Thank you, witcher." Said the captain.

"Don't thank me, you're the one that has to clean it up." He grunted as he hopped into the saddle and rode off with his fiery-haired companion.

* * *

"I understand the clothes, but is this really necessary?" Ulfrik was watching as Triss soaked his robe and armor in soapy water, using magic to aid her as a brush scrubbed the blood off of his armor all on its own. While he washed off in the spring. Her only response was a raised eyebrow and reluctant sigh as she lifted his gray hooded shirt out of the water and threw it over a nearby tree branch with his trousers and boots, his swords and crossbow attached to his horse. All while the witcher bathed in the spring, it was the first body of water that wasn't a swamp they had come across.

"Ulfrik, that thing covered you in blood, we're getting you new clothes in Novigrad as well...don't look at me like that, they wont be fancy, they'll be fitting for your trade, just something that doesn't have holes in it.

He grumbled under his breath as he scrubbed his armpits, she had stitched his arm quite nicely, and still under the effects of the elixir he didn't even feel it, now it was just sore. But he'd probably fall into bed as soon as he found one, Novigrad was less than half a day away, and he didn't want to dally. When he got out he caught a glimpse of Triss blushing, she looked away as he got dressed and strapped his swords on tightly, pulling his long gray hood over his head before he got on his horse, pulling himself up Ulfrik watched Triss do the same. His senses were still enhanced, while the immediate effects were gone what was left was heightened smells, eyesight, touch- he could still feel droplets of water racing down his back- their was the strong scent of horse. And Triss' perfume which was recently applied, there was an eagle miles away and a village, and once they were situated on the saddle, Ulfrik could see the towers of Novigrad as they slowly began to fade from view. And with a prod of his spurs the witcher and his friend Triss were off, to none other than the largest city in the known world.


	9. Four not seven

The wind carries many things, songs of birds, songs of men, arguments over price, the stomping of hooves, footsteps, constant footsteps...and at times the fowl stenches of the fish markets and sewers. Such was the nature of the Novigrad wind something Ulfrik had begrudgingly tolerated as he sat in the small courtyard outside Triss Merigolds flat. She was inside dealing with some noble that Ulfrik had no intention of knowing or even caring anything about so instead he used his time to meditate and think. His thoughts were on Arvid for now, where the man was, trying to piece together a picture of him as he sat. The last time he had seen him was almost ten years ago, he stood tall but a hair or two shorter than Ulfrik, he carried a vertical scar going down the right side of his lip, a child of a forktail had given it to him, overconfidence it seems is one of lifes greatest enemies. Ulfrik was almost glad he was cut on his face, Arvid had grown much too pretty to be a witcher. Women love him wherever he goes and he always sticks out with that golden main of his, he shaves the sides and keeps the rest in a long plait that would reach down between his shoulder blades, a popular style on the isles.

Arvid would be thirty two...no four? Somewhere around there by now, he traveled south to Nilfgaard all those years ago and hasn't returned since, fearing the worst Ulfrik was curious if he was safe...of course Ulfrik knew that he was not, no witcher is ever safe when on the path so he was only left to wonder and to hope that if Arvid is still alive that someday he'll return and hopefully with wonderous tales. His eye opened for a moment at the sound of approaching footsteps different than the passersby as they were closer, casually trampling the grass. He first saw a blue dress, fine in its craft, tilting his head Ulfrik found the material simple and not the usual extravagance of a sorceress so he looked upward finding that it hugged the wearers curves in a flattering non-overly accentuated manor fitting her form in a simple and elegant way, as nearer to the waist is loosened up and gently tossed in the wind. As he gazed higher he found a warm smile with soft green eyes looking down at him, as loose strands of hair tossed in the wind while the rest sat in those duel buns of hers. With the noon sun at her back causing the witcher to squint.

"Afternoon." Acknowledging her before resuming his position and closing his eye.

"Afternoon, tired of sitting it the sun yet?"

Ulfrik stopped himself from smirking as he gave up on the idea of actually sitting in the sun all day, although in his head he was glad that she had disturbed him. He shrugged in response to Triss, looking up at her and letting her know she has his attention.

"I was unaware that there was a better option." Unsmiling as always yet not without his charms (if anything about Ulfrik could be called "charming") Placing a hand on his knee and another on his swords laying on the ground next to him as he stood up with ease. Brushing his long braided hair back into a low hanging tail behind his head. Every once in a while Ulfrik surprised himself with his height, being seven inches over six feet he stood almost four heads taller than Triss. Again he suppressed a showing of amusement as he thought how silly Triss looked following him upwards with her eyes and then tilting her head back until finally he stood fully erect, strapping his swords to his back. She waited for him to stand before saying anything else.

"You could give me a hand."

"Hm?"

"There's a...client, If you could bring this to them-they're just outside the city at the seven cats inn."

"The seven cats is a days walk to and from." He grunted, then finally noticing that her hands were behind her back as she reached out with a package for Ulfrik to take. It looked like a box so he couldn't tell the contents, (nor anyone else for that matter) Ulfrik glanced at it catching Triss' lovely handwriting.

"Didn't realize my services were so valued." He said taking the box with the plain brown wrappings tied together with twine, gently from her hand then forced it into his satchel. "Shall I ring a bell and sing a song?"

"It's not _grunt work_...it's a favor for a friend. That's what friends do you know." Her hands remaind behind her back, slightly leaning forward to annuciate her point.

"Right, I'll remember that." With his unchanging expression Triss found it hard to read him even though she had spent a fair bit of time with witchers, once spending a whole year at Kear Morhen helping Geralt and his brothers learn how to treat a young lady. So she had become accustomed to their apparent coldness and dark sense of humor, at least Ulfrik never incessantly teased her like Lambert.

"Any further instruction? Must I perform three sharp raps upon the door?"

"My, my so many funnies today. Is it a special occasion, an if so, am I invited?" Coy and facetious yet Triss was almost asking a genuine question yet it was one in which the response played out like a parrot refraining a familiar sound.

"Nothing like that," Ulfrik shook his head waving away any notion of complication, Triss had relaxed her arms placing them on her hips as she continued.

"Don't worry he'll be easy to spot." She assured him.

"There a reason why an upstanding sorceress must conduct business with secrecy?" Ulfrik asked assuming his default postion as he wrapped his hands around his sword straps and leaned back on his left leg.

"Not really, it's more for the clients sake than mine. It looks suspicious when one goes to see a sorceress even if it's not entirely frowned upon...yet..." Her hand reached to her chin in thought, looking off to the side where the sun touched her face outside of Ufriks shadow.

Raising an eyebrow as his way to say 'out with it' as he leaned forward, normally an intimidation tactic, which normally had the same effect socially, although Ulfrik would call it 'coaxing' when using it with friends or comon folk as 'intimidation' sounded a bit too...well, intimidating.

"I just don't know if Novigrad was a good idea after all."

"Why's that? Close to the sea, plenty of shops, religious capital of the church of eternal fire, sewer monsters-"

"Ugh, don't remind me." Recalling Ulfrik returning to their currently shared flat smelling of death and dung, Triss shuddered at the thought of sewer monsters.

* * *

Ulfrik had opened and closed the door as quietly as possible, he even left his boots outside which had helped greatly with reducing the noise and smell, there was a bath upstairs he planned on using however before he could remove his swords Triss called out from the floor above.

"What's that smell?"

"I don't know, maybe a raccon got in?"

Triss stormed downstairs her sense of smell impressing the witcher as she glared at him from the base of the staircase, her right hand had not yet left the railing before she covered her nose and mouth with the other. Her emerald eyes had grown wide with an expression of surprise and disgust.

"Out." She said with her mouth and nose covered.

"But-

She removed her hand to make it more plainly clear, "Out!"

* * *

"-A flourishing local art scene, plenty of drink, lots of people to get to know-if you're into that sort of thing." He shrugged on the last remark.

"The church," Triss said, shaking her head as she made her way to the fountain that lay still with no water running. The fountain always seemed to be a bit off to Ulfrik as it never followed a set pattern of days before shutting off and then miraculously and at times completely at random it would resume lushing water from the top.

"That's what's been worrying me lately."

She sat down on ths edge of the fountain and with a wave of her hand it began to spout water from the top, softly trickling down the small top basin to the larger one at the bottom.

"They just like to sound important," He said honestly, making a slow pace towards the fountain. "If they didn't have something to scare people with, why would anyone believe them?"

"I don't disagree but with that being said, people _do_ believe them...I heard rumors of Radivid supporting the witch hunters in Tretegor that could spread out here faster than anyone would like. No such thing as a _free_ city it seems." She dipped the tip of her index and middle finger into the pool of the fountain, casually swishing the water about as if it would bring her peace of mind.

"Well, with rumors of Nilfgaard on the move again I have a feeling the young king will have his hands full." Trying to sound optimistic although ultimately Ulfrik cared not for the trifles of churches and kings. In the end, those that differ and deviate from the rest will always suffer, such is the life they lead and such is life in general. He sat down next to Triss, watching the glistening water pour down into the pool. He reached down not sure what to expect but he found the water to be rather refreshing to the touch. It's coolness caused Ulfrik to pause before retracting his hand.

"Thank you." Triss said, it caught Ulfrik off guard, he glanced down at her watching her watch the the fountain.

"What for?"

"For trying to make me feel better." She turned smiling softly Ulfrik could see that Triss is genuinely bothered by the thought of the church which almost scared him. If they came for the sorceresses and magic users, what would that mean for him? For Arvid? And if these 'rumors' are real enough for Triss to take them seriously the thought gave him a horrid feeling in the back of his head.

Then, Ulfrik realized no one had really smiled in his direction as much as Triss has in a while...he didn't like it. He parted his lips but before anything more than a small 'Eh' left his mouth the witcher stopped himself and stood up with Triss' eyes still trained on him, Ulfrik thought they looked different for some reason, softer, more gentle than normal, in truth it made Ulfrik uncomfortable, he knew that look and where it led too, perhaps she had no ulterior intrest in him and she was merely greatful for his help. But that look, the sympathetic wided-eyed glance with a slight pout of the lips, Ulfrik likes her in truth. Triss Is kind, she cares for him, helps him without much question and even puts up with the occasional smell of corpse(barely) he only felt that he would do the same thing to her that Geralt had done, leave. Without a thought or warning he was afraid that he'd leave and she would be sad-that he could be the reason she cried...the thought hurt Ulfrik more than he'd admitt out loud. And then came the thought that perhaps she is just grateful for his help as someone who understands their world is quite rare these days, nothing more and certainty not worth looking into.

"Shouldn't take me long, although one-"

"One can always be waylaid," Triss looked a little less worried now as she stood up from the fountain and walked back towards the flat her fiery hair shining in the sunlight. "I'm sure you wont be too long, I'll see you upon return." She had turned around almost knowing that he was watching, Ulfrik felt like an old fool having caught himself staring at a younger woman. (At least that is how she chooses to be percieved, as most sorceresses are far older and often uglier than they appear) Then again, he only had a little gray in his hair, not that it mattered much considering she once loved an albino man. He left the small courtyard and walked onto the busy street outside. It was as if he stepped out of a hidden realm of peace and beauty and into one of public urination, loudness, and worst of all solicitors.

"Oi! You sir, you look like you enjoy the finer things in life, Come take a look at my wares I'm sure I have something for you."

Shaking his head Ulfrik walked by the merchant who kept a stall about four yards from the flat entrance. It was two months ago Triss had invited Ulfrik to stay with her, stating that another presence would be 'comforting'. Ulfrik never took it to mean that Triss could simply not bare the thought or the panging of loneliness, As she's far from a shriking violet, from a witchers perspective the enjoyment of company was more of a luxury which makes friendship an odd and almost unusual commodity. The way Ulfrik understood her(and anyone in their kind of life) was that because there are so few who you can talk to about the occult, magic and how it effects the world, or perhaps how each year the witchers- a product of magic- are quite possibly its greatest enemy, a thought that had crossed Ulfriks mind more than once. Unable to deny that he too enjoyed having someone who has some understanding of his life and who he is and must be.

It can be a lonely path, one day you've got friends and comrades to spare the next...well there's a reason Ulfriks never returned to Dol Aerith and a reason his thoughts never drift to those days or even...Ulfrik shook his head and rubbed his eye to clear his mind. Even with the gray slowly (At least Ulfrik would like to think it is) creeping in his hair Ulfrik could recall his time in the valley quite well as he would almost look forward to winter. The drinking games, the races, the women, it was all gone within a day. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose to clear his mind once more, stopping in the middle of the street and letting out a long breath Ulfrik looked around, more specifically he watched the many people of Novigrads' crowded streets walk by as he made his way to the south gate. He saw a woman walk by clenching her teeth as she stretched her back, pushing her stomach outward with both hands on her lower back. He saw two men carrying heavy lumber as another barked orders, a man walking out of his home as his wife shouted at him and passersby who simply hurried pass at the sight of Ulfrik, when he walked by Crippled Kates he saw women in colored rags posing outside, one with enough make up to cover her illness but only just. And as the bear witcher reached the city gate he saw an old man begging on the street. For some reason the witchers heart turned, for once again yet still too rare in his life he recognized that his suffering is not the only suffering that matters, but as a witcher Ulfrik couldn't see how to help them, it's the way of the world. Perhaps the woman stretching her back is a terrible mother who beats her children and perhaps the two builders are lazy and need to be yelled at to even lift a hammer, perhaps the whore hiding her illness is evil for infecting others, and perhaps the old man was so terrrible and evil that his children want nothing to do with him and left him to his fate.

"You sir? Help the poor? I've lost everything, and-and..." The old man stopped talking realizing that Ulfrik didn't care as he walked by him on Ulfriks' right side so the beggar was no longer in view.

Ulfrik then stopped but a few yards away, rolling his single eye and letting out a frustratingly pointless breath of contempt and confusion.

He pinched the bridge of his nose again.

* * *

When Ulfrik had walked it all the way to the Seven Cats inn (and on a more important note he only counted four cats once he got there) while not exactly special the Seven Cats inn is a rather quaint local, inn it has a large barn adjacent to keep horses and ingrates, a notice board that Ulfrik chose to ignore on his way inside. When walking inside the serving counters and cook are almost immediately to Ulfriks right as they are but a few feet from the door. The thatch roof bleeds into the wall all along the opposite side of the room. Yet on the wall not covered in thatch is paintings of bright colored flowers of yellow and red with fields of green. Ulfrik found himself a table in the back of the tavern away from the serving counter and a good yard from the hearth. Getting comfortable Ulfrik removed his swords from his back and set them down next to him with his steal close to his left hand and ready to draw. Tugging his hood over half head, enough to cover and warm his ears, he realized that he had forgotten to ask what this patron of his friend looks like, hoping that Triss told him to either expect her likeness or a one-eyed witcher...he hoped anyway.

It would be a while before Ulfrik decided to remove his pipe and tobacco from his pocket, packing it carefully he waved his hand over the tobacco in his pipe casting igni. with the murmurs of the other patrons in the air bouncing off the walls of the inn and his eye fixed on the door, Ulfrik waited. Although eventually his mind drifted as he became bored his right hand fumbling with one of the straps on the studded bracer on his left arm. While on both he wares two bracers around his coif covered arms which were covered by the old tunic the witcher had been favoring for so long, with the buckles and straps running diagonally across his chest as the top two remained undone revealing the chained mail underneath. His face, baring a resemblance of a beard that is more dark than gray but the gray remains ever noticeable to Ulfrik same as for the braided locks tied behind his head as for the first time in a few months, he caught sight of his face in a decorated silver plate on the right hand wall, his wide cheeks sunk as he had little jowl yet it isn't normally noticeable due to his face almost always covered by the beard around his thin lips that clasped the pipe in his mouth. And of course his single, golden, cats eye staring back, now fixated on the small, jagged scar on his left eyebrow, just above his good eye as well as the nick on his right cheek which was barely visible under his beard.

"I heard if you stared too long you freeze." Turning his head to his left and across the table where a tall, thin, dark-haired man pulled up a chair. The hair around his temples remained gray from the last time Ulfrik had seen him although the gray had taken over a bit more than his temples.

The man before him Ulfrik knew and remembered from his most eventful night spent in Gors Velen. It was some time ago and it partially showed on the mans face, Ulfrik was surprised that after all these years there were only a few wrinkles around the other mans dark eyes.

"Blaire." He grunted, with little to no enthusiasm.

"Hm." Blarie looked curious, "what no sword at my throat? No feelings of scorn...I expected...well, I dont know-more." He leaned on one arm over the table looking Ulfrik in the eye.

"You value yourself too high a price."

Blarie rolled his eyes looking off to his left towards the rest of the hall. "I don't suppose you have something for me, eh? From a certain...red haired friend?" Concerned, Blaire raised his brow as Ulfrik let out a sigh reaching in his pocket for the package Triss had given him. Obviously she wouldn't know of his acquaintance just yet but Blaire may have mentioned something. As Ulfriks memory served him he did not betray Blaire willingly, as if it mattered to either man. Setting it down across the table, a man with a dark hood caught his gaze. He sat off towards the far right side if the dinning hall with his back turned, wearing a dark brown cloak with his hood up to hide his face and left hand dangerously close to his sword on his hip, Ulfrik then glanced towards Blaire who was on his good side so Ulfrik barely moved his head as he scanned the rest of the room. He saw no one else quite as mysterious and perhaps the other man is simply here of his own will, after all seven cats ale isn't half bad.

"I suppose we should clear the air." Balire swallowed, calmly he sat back in his chair as though they were just old friends, Ulfrik eyed him. Trusting him would be a mistake but perhaps Triss did...or perhaps Peter Blaire is just another name on a piece of paper for the sorceress, either way Ulfrik was never keen on being friends with those that try to kill him, he's picky that way.

"I don't see a reason to-"

"Your actions put me in a rather precarious position." He said narrowing his eyes at the witcher. "And secondly, I am aware of the hidden figures that may have persuaded you. I'm not holding a grudge if you're wondering." Blarie looked across the hall to the man in the dark hood, causing Ulfrik to rear his head with his eye meeting the strangers, he turned away too quick for Ulfrik to study his face but the witcher caught sight of his light hazel eyes that seemed to shimmer in the candle light.

"He's not _your_ guard." Looking back at Blaire who bore what resembled a poorly hidden smirk.

"We are simple traveling companions."

"And where," Ulfrik fully turned to face Blaire, setting his left arm on the table with his right holding his swords. "Would you be off too? With the aide of a sorceress no less, who is he?"

"Ah, I'd tell you, hell I'd hire you after seeing you fight. But I can't risk our nilfgaardian friend finding out. He's been hot on my tail since Foltests' death." With concern overtaking him Blaire gave the room a quick glance, making sure that their were no prying eyes he calmly returned his attention to Ulfrik.

" _Our_ Nilfgaardian friend?" Ulfrik tried not to look confused as he ran a list of southerners he had met in Gors Velen as well as Temeria and none came to mind.

"Don't play coy with me bear, the man I first sent you to find. What was it, seven years ago? My how time flies."

Ulfrik shook his head in disbelief and opened his mouth to correct Blaire, only to be interrupted once more.

"You mean you didn't know? He didn't tell you?" Ulfrik could see that Blaire was holding back an insult as he shook is head in a way that asked Ulfrik how dumb he really is.

"Keira Metz wasn't a dead give away?"

"Just get on with it." Ulfrik was frustrated at the idea that the wool had been pulled over his eyes, he didn't like being made a fool of. He tried to hide the flush of color around his cheeks but with men like Blaire you either keep a straight face or tell him everything out right, the man is a hound, it seemed and he always finds what he's looking for eventually.

"Da'han aep Queal Ean lleau. A member of the respected Ean lleau family in central Nilfgaard, a capable fighter, master seaman, and-most importantly- his imperial majesties most trusted source of information."

"He sounded Korviri to me," his eye widened a bit as he sat back in his chair once again glancing towards the hooded stranger as he continued, "You knew, but didn't tell me he'd be using an alias."

"Admittedly," Blaire said with more than a hint of regret. "I didn't, he's _one of_ the empires best kept secrets. He's even allowed to raid Nilfgaardian ships...unimportant ones I assume, possibly the emperors enemies within."

"And where did you get this information from?"

It was almost impressive, and Ulfrik almost didn't hear him but Blaire knew Ulfrik had heard the man behind him when the witcher had tilted his head ever so slightly to the right. He grabbed the hooded man by the neck and before Ulfrik could even stand he had found himself pushed out of his chair and forced against the wall with the hooded mans forearm at his neck. Ulfrik, filled with a sense of shock that he quickly recovered from now found himself staring into a pair of golden cats eyes, his beard was a dark blonde and the whiskers almost came two inches off his face, while his head remained shaved on either side with nothing more than a stubble on top. His most distinct feature being half of the top part on his left ear being cut off, nearly touching his left eye as the cut ran across his cheek just shy of his nose, as well as a vertical scar across his lips starting below his nose carving a jagged path to his chin. Ulfrik had forgotten how nasty it was, even if his beard covered most of it.

"Are you finshed?" He smiled in a familiar way yet there lied something forlorn about the look as it bore a world weariness common in witchers and it was then that Ulfrik had finally realize who it is that stood before him. Ulfrik, catching his breath as he instinctively stepped forward as the man stepped back, removing his forearm from the taller mans throat. They looked at each other, Ulfrik opened his arms.

"Arivd." They embraced, "where have you been?"

"About that..." He replied shakily

"What?"

"You should sit down, there's quite a lot I must tell you."

* * *

Hello, it's been a while I know but a lot has happened in my life since the last update, the past year not only have I taken the bold step of moving out and living with my girlfriend but I've also been in and out of the hospital. Fortunately my medical problems seem almost resolved but as usual life has other plans. My current work schedule prohibits me from making any real progress with my writing and it doesn't help that I realize I don't have a place for a chapter until after I write it. To keep this short I'd like to thank those who've enjoyed the story, flaws and all, and especially those who remember and come back to read it when there are updates. Check my profile for any further updates bc this authors not is running a bit too long for my liking.

And stay tuned, Ulfrik still has a lot to do.


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